The Mossflower Mary Sue Showdown
by Oreramar
Summary: The Sues are back! This show brought to you by Kalyn the squirrel and Aelin the otter. This time: the cliches pile up and there's trouble underground. Last time: it's squirrel vs. squirrel times two , and there's plotting in the shadows.
1. The Listing

_**The Mossflower Mary-Sue Showdown**_

_Introduction_

* * *

An otter steps out onto the stage, shuffling papers around in her paws as she walks. At the midpoint, she faces the audience, clears her throat, and reads off her disclaimer.

"_I, Aelin Wordsmith, also known here as Oreramar, once known here as Eruravenne, do not own any recognizable aspect of Redwall, Mossflower, Salamandastron, or any of the surrounding lands. This includes but is not limited to beast-names, place-names, any other names, the beasts and places themselves, or the concept of a forest-full of walking, talking, fighting, and otherwise human-like animals. These various things belong to one Brian Jaques._

"_Please note that I do own something called the '_Otherpath Theory_' by right of creation. If you understand and like the theory, and wish to use it as a part of your own story, please contact me first. _

"_I might also own various made-up and original characters, places, or objects, though in all honesty this does not count as much as all of these will end up being part of the places and/or concepts that I have already said I do not own._

"_Should I ever use the alter-ego of another person on this site, rest assured I have that person's permission to do so._

"_This disclaimer is meant to be sufficient for the entirety of this story or collection of stories."_

The otter looks up from her papers to see the audience staring blankly at her. She grins sheepishly and edges away with a few final words: "Enjoy the show!"

* * *

"Hello, everybeast, and welcome to the Mossflower Mary-Sue Showdown!"

The grey squirrel spread her paws and beamed at the clapping audience from her position in the middle of a boxing-ring-like stage. An otter standing behind her and to one side grinned and nodded. At length the applause died down again, allowing her to continue speaking into the microphone set up there.

"Before we begin, allow me to introduce myself and my partner. I'm Kalyn Wordsmith, squirrel, Sue-slayer novice, and author extraordinaire..."

The otter began to make choking sounds that were, nonetheless, easily recognizable as laughter.

"And this _thing_ behind me is Aelin, otter, Sue-slayer novice, and still a delicate newcomer to the world of fanfiction."

"Don't be childish, Kalyn," the otter said, still snickering. "Just finish the intro."

Kalyn rolled her eyes and flicked her tail, but actually did as asked for once.

"Okay, you're probably wondering what's going on. I'll explain that right now. First off, you probably took note of the name of this show: The Mossflower Mary-Sue Showdown. Yes, I said _Mary-Sue_. What we're doing here is simple. We, that is, Aelin and I, have identified and tagged ten different Sues and Stus of ten different sub-types, all from the world of Mossflower. Aelin will explain them in a minute.

"The way this show works is like this: someone from the audience – that's right, one of you out there! – volunteers before each episode to take on a pre-chosen (and secret!) Sue or Stu. We outfit you with weapons, armor, other gear, and turn you loose on this stage, where you will either take out the creature...or be taken out yourself. So before you volunteer, you'd better be pretty sure you can do this thing.

"Each episode will be in two parts. In the first, Aelin and I (and perhaps a guest star every now and then) go and capture the Sue needed this time. In the second part, we introduce the combatants and _let the fur fly!"_

Kalyn punched a fist into the air and was answered by a roar of agreement from the audience.

"And now," said the squirrel after things had quieted down once again, "Aelin will tell you about the line-up we have right now."

The otter took the microphone and a deep breath. A screen descended from the ceiling behind her, and a large, blank white rectangle was projected onto it.

"Okay, I'm going through these in no particular order. Please realize that the selection of Sues for each episode has been randomized and pre-set in an order known only by Kalyn and I. Also, each image that will be shown is a generic example, and not a picture of the Sue we've picked for the fight.

"First off, we have the Strong!Sue." Onto the screen came an image of a young, female fox with vibrant red fur and snapping green eyes. She seemed to be wearing a strange conglomeration of black leather and shiny armor, and stood with a nearly visible aura of _I'm-so-tough-_ness. "She's rough, forceful, and generally the most dangerous super-beast of all. The Strong!Sue generally has an attitude, but often it's just a thin crust over her softer feelings, like a shell on one of those nasty little cockroaches..."

Aelin gritted her teeth, forgetting herself for a moment. She quickly snapped out of her thoughts, though, and pressed a button on the side of the microphone. The image on the screen changed to that of a snowy-white, finely-built ermine in a gold-and-pink dress that put Sleeping Beauty's gown to shame.

"Almost a polar opposite of that, there is the Delicate!Sue. The epitome of all things feminine and Disney-princess-y, she usually gets out of tight spots either by her girlish charms, a timely arrival of her hero-in-shining-armor, or perhaps an uncharacteristically tough trick up her sparkly-pink-and-white sleeve.

"The next category, Angsty!Sue, is split into two sub-categories. First is Guilty!Sue."

Once again, the image changed, showing two nearly identical mice. The one on the right was in shadow, but the left-side picture was perfectly visible. It depicted a mouse sitting, hunched over, on a rock, crying silver tears into her paws.

"She had a bad past of some sort, for which she irrationally blames herself. In most stories featuring this kind of Sue, she can only be pulled out of her self-blame spiral by the close friendship and/or love of one or more Canon characters. She blames herself despite having done nothing wrong."

The Guilty!Sue picture dimmed next, and the mirror image was brought out. This time the mouse sat on her rock with fiery eyes and a fierce expression, clutching a sword in one paw.

"The second sub-category is Vengeful!Sue. She also had a bad past of some sort, but she blames someone else, such as the main villain or evil organization. Thus she departs on a quest for revenge that becomes the main storyline. Somehow, no matter what she does or how she acts, it is justified by her bad past. She has no guilt at all because she hasn't done anything 'wrong'.

"Next is one of the most vile forms: Canon!Sue, also known as Possession!Sue. The author makes a cheap carbon copy of a real character, adds a few characteristics, and turns it into a Sue or Stu."

The screen now showed a picture of an incredibly handsome male mouse, standing gallantly and bravely and several other adverbs that shouldn't be that apparent in a picture, wearing what was clearly Martin's armor, carrying Martin's sword and shield, and, just to make it clear, was depicted above a banner that read _Martin_. Several beasts in the audience hissed at the sight.

Aelin quickly pressed the button so the viewers wouldn't fly into a rage. An elegant male wildcat with perfectly groomed fur and a cheesy moustache that still looked good on him took the pseudo-Martin's place on the screen.

"Villain!Sues are the evil forms of all Sues, but they're often really good inside. They can defeat canon characters with ease, but refrain from killing them out of some secret good quality or another. They often end up being a hero in disguise, or they join the good side after seeing their evil ways."

Aelin continued, not yet switching the picture.

"Luckily, Redwall doesn't see much of this next sort, as they are far more common in worlds where there is at least a hint of paranormal powers, but we did manage to dig up a Magic!Sue here."

A pure black squirrel appeared on the screen, wearing a fantastic silver-gold-and-midnight-blue cloak covered in sparkling stars. She held up a golden wand, which had a myriad of colorful sparkles trailing from its tip.

"This Sue has magical powers, even though she's in a world where magic is non-existent or of a completely different sort (for example, being an 'elemental' in the Harry Potter world)."

Next up was a hare wearing nondescript (and yet somehow elegant and flattering) traveling clothes, carrying a pack and with a face that was both beautiful and bewildered.

"These are also rare in Redwall: OtherWorld!Sue. This can also be a Crossover!Sue, but not necessarily. The name says it all: the Sue comes from a different world and thus steals the spotlight with her attempts to simultaneously get back home and woo whichever main character the Suethor likes."

The traveler was replaced at the next click of the button by an ethereal, creamy-furred weasel wearing some kind of white toga and a knowing expression.

"The Omniscient!Sue knows everything about the main character (and often the minor characters as well). Past, present, future: it's all in her head and she shows off this knowledge at every opportunity. Occasionally she doesn't know something, or doesn't tell, but this is only a ploy to bring in angst when she realizes she could have stopped something from happening."

"Last, but not least, the form we all know and hate: Self-Inserts!" A picture appeared of a generic, grey human silhouette with a vibrant yellow question mark across it, sitting before a computer. "These can be any category of Sue, or they could be a form all of their own. They are blatant attempts by the author to super-ize him or herself and place him or herself into a story.

"Some 'Sues' will actually be _Stus_. They come in all species, shapes, and sizes, wielding all sorts of weapons, from a golden sword over twice the length of his/her body to a delicately-wrought belt-knife of silver and diamonds. And yet, for all of their differences, they all have the same goal: to overrun the world of logic and canon with their own brand of nonsensical, romanticized writing and characterization."

Kalyn lifted her head and blinked a couple of times as though clearing away drowsyness. "Is the lecture over yet, Aelin? You're boring everybeast here, and I want to get started on the show itself now, not sometime next week."

The squirrel ignored Aelin's angry sputtering and wrestled the microphone away from her. At the click of another button, the projector turned off and the screen rolled back up into its original position, hidden in a slot in the ceiling.

"Okay, now that we've got all that cleared up, you probably want to know how to enter for the first Sue. Each episode, there will be a light purple box by the door, right down there. Fill out a review slip, and while you let us know how we're doing, write down your name, gender, species, basic appearance (so we can find you), favored weapon (we'll have one ready, if you want your own you'll have to give it to us for safe-keeping _before_ the episode...no weaponry allowed in the audience), favorite Redwall characters, and how you'd like to finish off the Sue (utter annihilation? Simple stab to the back? Take off her head?).

"All sue-battles are on a first-come, first-serve basis. You can ask to be part of a group, or fight with a partner – this is recommended for beginners especially. Don't underestimate the Sues!

"Until next time, then!" Kalyn waved at the crowd cheerfully. "Bye!"


	2. Villain Stu

The day was bright, the air fresh, and Cluny the Scourge was looking forward to the bloodshed to come. Fights weren't quite as enjoyable to watch as they were to participate in, but watching was good enough in a pinch. Head and poison-barbed tail held high and jaunty, the huge black rat walked down the path toward the specially-constructed theater with a slight bounce in his step. Had he any inclination toward music, he might have been whistling a lively tune.

Cluny stepped into the shadow of the theater front and eyed a sign hung there with derision. He spat to the side, cracked his tail once, and laughed.

_No personal weapons allowed inside_, indeed. He was Cluny the Scourge! He obeyed nobeast, least of all the scrawny-looking squirrel- and otter-maids leading this show. With more than just a touch of arrogance, Cluny opened the glass-and-metal door and strode inside.

_BEEP – BEEP – BEEP – BEEP – BEEP - !_

"_Oooof!"_

With a grunt of pain and a surprised expression on his face, the heavily-scarred rat sailed right back out the door to land on his tail-end in the middle of the path. A hare with an impressive moustache marched out after him.

"Bally rat, can't ye _read_? '_No pers'nal weapons allowed inside,_' an' that's by order o' the hosts _an'_ the Security Chief!"

Cluny struggled to his footpaws, gasping for air. "I'll talk to this 'chief' of yours about this, I will! Go on, send him out!"

The hare shrugged, ducked his head back into the theater, and shouted out. "Say, SC ol' chap, care to come out an' give a hare a paw? This blighter thinks the rules don't apply to 'im."

A couple of moments passed by, in which the hare examined a paw and Cluny got his second wind back. A clanking noise came from the theater's interior, followed by a mouse in armor. Cluny's one good eye widened comically.

"YOU!" The rat shrieked and fairly flew back down the path, screaming in fear. He ran heedlessly, forcing a large male stoat to skip aside off of the dirt road to avoid being trampled.

Martin sighed and shook his head. "Well, that was easily taken care of."

"Ah, I was lookin' forward to a pre-show drubbin', too..." the unnamed hare caught sight of the stoat and straightened so abruptly he looked like he'd just had a two-by-four shot up his spine. "Say, you there! You goin' to give any trouble?"

"Ah..." The stoat eyed both hare and warrior mouse warily, taking note of the sword fastened to the mouse's belt, the way the hare stood in an alert fighting stance, and the very distinct probability that there were more fighters inside. Oh, he could take on a half dozen easily on his own, but any more than that would overwhelm him. Besides, he was here on invitation. Might as well be polite. "Why, no, mates. Jus' tell me where to leave me ole saber, an' your word it'll be there safe an' sound when I come back out."

The hare looked almost disappointed. The mouse, on the other paw, simply nodded in an almost-friendly manner. "There are special lockers to the left of the entrance – right over there. If it's got a red light, it's full. Green, it's empty. Place your paw on the front of the locker and it will open for you. Guaranteed to fit any weapon, I've been told. Close the locker up and it'll lock tight right away, and will only open again at your touch. Make sure and remember what number yours is."

The corsair followed his instructions and placed his saber in the chosen locker with only a hint of reluctance.

"Here, wait," he called out as the mouse turned to leave. Martin paused and half-turned back to face the stoat. "I have this fancy card here, somethin' 'bout an _Invited Character_. Care to give me a course?"

"Er...course?"

"Directions, landlubber." The stoat rolled his eyes expressively.

"Ah. Yes. In through the doors, don't turn down any side halls, walk to the end of the main corridor and then down the flight of stairs there. Turn left, then keep on going until you reach the open-air seating at the end. You'll have to put your card into a slot to get through the gate before the seat. Oh, and before I forget, your name?"

The stoat, already striding into the theater, turned and hooked his paws on his black, garnet-studded belt. With a wide grin, he answered.

"Barranca, captain of the _Freebooter_."

* * *

"All right, all right, settle down now, everybeast!" Aelin grinned widely, waving one paw over her head as she spoke into the microphone. Gradually, the audience's roar of conversation subsided into a dim hum of whispering and anticipation. "Welcome to our first proper episode!"

"As promised," Kalyn said, using her own microphone this time, "We'll be showing you our capture of the Sue...or rather, Stu. He's already locked up below for the fight, but we have a way for you to see exactly how that happened."

"I discovered a fanfic-created device in the Harry Potter section of the Otherpaths." Aelin gestured at a stone plinth in the center of the stage, which held a wide bowl and was surmounted by an odd brassy device with entirely too many knobs, buttons, and plates scattered on it. "It's a pensieve modified to _project_ images onto, say, a wall or screen. Handier than dragging along cameras and sound equipment, I'd say."

"So, without further ado..." Kalyn gestured at someone in the lighting booth, far above the audience. The lights in the theater dimmed, the microphones switched off, and the pensieve projector whirred into life, throwing their story up onto the white screen.

* * *

The screen showed a cluttered, square room that seemed a cross between a kitchen and a sitting room. Cupboards and a counter bearing fruit, bread, microwave, and sinks adorned one side of it, a computer, bookshelves, and beanbag chairs took up the other.

On one side of the room, Kalyn was sniggering softly as she polished her Super Redwall Pocketknife and checked over all of the settings, from lock-pick to lightsaber.

"No lightsaber, Kalyn," Aelin said as she typed something up on the computer.

"But..."

"No. We're taking the Stu _alive and unharmed_. No lightsaber."

"Just in case?"

"No."

Aelin finished typing and hit print. Their old, massive printer shuddered to life and started to chug out the paper, rattling the bulletin board on the wall behind it with its vibrations.

"Fine," Kalyn said sharply. She stuck her knife in the special pouch on her SS Utility-belt. "You ready yet?"

"No, not yet. Just hang on a minute."

Kalyn tapped her footpaw for a couple of moments, then wandered over to the bookshelves and selected _The Angel's Command_. Throwing herself down on a beanbag, the squirrel settled down for a long wait...

Aelin finished bucking on her belt, pulled on a strange pair of brown leather gauntlets, and strode to the door. "Ready!"

"I just started reading!" Kalyn stuffed a bookmark between the pages and stood up again. She made her way over to the door.

The two of them grinned at one another.

"Three, two, one..."

The door opened, the black-blue field and golden lights of the Otherpaths swirled around them, and the scene vanished, turning in an instant to a convenient forest clearing.

"Have you ever noticed how many clearings there are in a forest when some people write?" Aelin stated conversationally. "I mean, every time there needs to be a bit of dialogue or action, or even thought, and the setting is a forest, it takes place in a _clearing_."

"Bet you this warlord's camp is located in the biggest clearing you ever laid eyes on."

"Very likely. Can't have those poor hordebeasts pitching tents over treeroots."

The two snickered. Kalyn looked around bemusedly.

"So...which way?"

"Listen, and you'll know." Aelin smiled and shook her head a little. Kalyn cocked an ear up and half-closed her eyes. A sound began to reach them – a sound something like shouting, fighting, and, oddly enough, rough singing.

"That them?"

"Yep."

They started walking in the appropriate direction, skipping over tree roots as they went. There seemed to be another clearing to pass through every other minute. All the while, the sound of fighting grew louder.

"You didn't take us straight into a time when they're having a battle, did you?"

"Nah. Like the ever-present forest clearings, whenever certain authors write military or militaristic camps there's often a constant noise of weapons clashing, even though I highly doubt most armies would allow so much in-fighting, and drills aren't exactly constant either."

"Ah, I see."

With that, and without any warning whatsoever except a dramatic increase in noise level, they walked straight out into the camp. Sure enough, it was in a huge clearing, more like a meadow in the middle of the forest. All around them, rats, weasels, ferrets, and stoats were sharpening weapons, sparring, or singing some stupid battle song with unclear lyrics (probably because the author wasn't creative enough to write any or look any up) around a campfire (even though it was the middle of the day).

"Aelin, is this a good idea? Walking right through camp like this?"

"Yes. Think. It's a warlord, but above all, it's a Stu. It lives for dramatic moments. We're going to give it one."

"O-kay, then," Kalyn said. "But I don't like the way they're all staring at us."

It was like being stared at by zombies. Every beast there had paused in what it was doing to gaze, slack and dull-eyed, at the squirrel and otter as they passed on through. Finally a fox with a little more life in its face (meaning it was probably a minor character of sorts) came forward and stopped them.

"Who are you, and what is your business here?"

Aelin winked quickly at Kalyn. "Remember," she whispered quickly. "_Dramatic_."

"My name is Aelin, and this is Kalyn. We have...business with your leader. A challenge."

"The great Sudarshan Besnik Shukri Kalidasa Phoenix Darkheartsilverblade does not accept challenges from just anybeast," the fox replied in a near-monotone.

"We are great warriors from a mystical land far beyond the Western Sea," Kalyn replied grandly. "One of your leader's ancestors destroyed most of our village but for a minor few, and we, descendents of those few, come to take revenge when our forefathers could not."

Aelin mimed gagging motions behind Kalyn's back, but also gave the squirrel a quick thumbs-up.

"And so," the squirrel continued, "we challenge your leader to a duel, we two against him. That is, unless he's too much of a cur to face us honorably."

"I fear nobeast," somebeast said in a dark but cultured voice. The fox scrambled aside with much bowing and mumbling, allowing the Slayers their first view of the Stu they hunted. True to form, he was an impressive beast, tall and strong. He was a ferret with creamy brown fur, wearing black armor and a flowing cloak with red lining. A silver sword with a gold hilt hung from his gold-and-ruby belt, and he wore on his left arm a large, oval shield with a red broken-heart symbol on it.

Aelin rolled her eyes. So that was the basis for this Stu's villainy. A so-called _broken heart_. Stupid.

"I will fight you, though it will be a short contest, I think."

"You have no idea," Aelin muttered softly. She tugged the gauntlet from her right paw and threw it down before..._Sudarshan_. He looked down on it quizzically.

"What's this?"

"A custom from our land," Aelin replied confidently. "The challenger offers a gauntlet to his or her opponent. If you take that gauntlet and wear it throughout our fight, you accept our challenge."

The ferret stooped, scooping up the glove in a fluid motion. He tugged it onto his right paw, drew his sword, and settled into a fighting stance. Kalyn yanked out her pocketknife, pressing the button to turn it into a plain sword. Aelin simply stood there, grinning.

"What are you doing?" Kalyn hissed. "Get ready!"

"Activating Code-phrase," Aelin said in a clear, quick voice. "_Qui mortem invitavis_."

The gauntlet on the ferret's fist flashed suddenly. The villain-Stu's dark brown eyes widened in sudden realization of a trap, but it was too late. When the light vanished, the ferret was also gone.

"Otherpaths, now!" Aelin grabbed Kalyn's paw and the two disappeared back to their home base.

* * *

The projector flickered off, the screen retracted, and the lights came back on. Something in the stage began whirring, and the plinth began to sink down into it.

"At this moment," Aelin said, "the Stu is locked away in a room, waiting for the fight. He has been briefed on it already and, though he's...rather unhappy...he's ready to do battle."

"So, let's get started!" Kalyn clapped her paws together. With a rush, the illusionary theater walls and ceiling melted away, replaced by a sunny, sand-swept arena not dissimilar to a scaled-down Roman coliseum. Two wide gates stood at either end of the fighting floor, one with a golden sword with lots of twirling vine filigree emblazoned across it, the other with a simple flame under the letters _SS_. Instead of standing in the middle of the floor, the hosts were now up in a box-like structure in the center of the arena's far wall.

"First off, our fighters! The Stu, named Sud...Su-dar-shan Besnik...uh, Shu-kri Ka-li-da-sa...Phoenix Dark-heart-silver-blade...I am not repeating that, so from now on he's Sudarshan, or Darky. Anyhow, he's a ferret and self-proclaimed Warlord with plans, as usual, to conquer Redwall."

The golden-sword gate whirred open, allowing the aforementioned ferret to stride out into the sunlight. He bared his teeth at the boo-ing crowd, drew his sword, and waited impatiently, his red-and-black cape stirring in the slight breeze that made its way into the arena despite the high walls and tall stands.

"His opponent, now, is someone most of you probably know and...well, dunno about 'love', actually. Perhaps fear is a better word? Anyhow, ladies and gentlebeasts, please welcome the well-known Sue-Slayer and psychotic pine marten, Arawolf Beechclaw!"

The other gate opened up, letting the female pine martin march out into the arena. She had her right paw wrapped around the hilt of a wicked-looking scimitar, and her left clutched something that looked like a floppy piece of cloth on a string. Arawolf also seemed to be wearing metal gauntlets for the occasion. When Sudarshan caught sight of them, he grew visibly tense with anger. Clearly, gauntlets had reached the bottom of his 'favored armor' list.

"Miss Beechclaw mentioned three of her favorite canon characters in her application. While Ungatt Trunn...er, _refused_ our invitation when we told him he couldn't bring along his spiders, and Folgrim is still going through the final stages of rehabilitation and so could not come for fear of suffering a...relapse, we do have here a special guest: Barranca, stoat corsair and captain of the _Freebooter_!"

Arawolf looked about quickly until she caught sight of the stoat sitting in a personal seating box. Grinning widely (and still somewhat frighteningly) she raised her scimitar in a salute. Barranca answered with a small nod, muttering to himself, "I've got me a fan, an' a pine marten to boot! Take _that_, Mad Eyes."

"Okay, contestants, let's go over what few rules we have here. In short, anything goes _except_ for getting anyone in the audience to join your fight or smuggling in any friends or minions to help. Should there ever be a time for taunting in the middle of the fight, we ask that you keep it clear of swear words...we suggested that dibbuns not watch this, but you never know."

Kalyn took hold of a rope behind them. It led up a shaft to a small bell-tower, where a single, deep-voiced bell hung. "LET THE FIGHT BEGIN!"

_DONG!_

* * *

"YEEAHAAAA!"

With a screech of excitement that would have put Hon Rosie's famous laugh to shame for sheer volume, Arawolf threw herself forward, slashing wildly with her scimitar. Despite being a Stu, and usually perfect, Sudarshan was surprised by the sheer ferocity of the initial attack and found himself being forced backwards, though he blocked and parried every stroke beautifully.

Finally, near the wall, the ferret gathered his strength and executed an impossibly (unless you were Sue, Stu, character in a Japanese video game, or Force-user) high jump and triple-flip over Arawolf's head, putting himself back in the clear area of the arena.

"You fight well, Arawolf Beechclaw," he said smoothly. "I wonder...would you possibly be interested in joining me? You would be a captain of my horde, admired, respected, obeyed..."

"You're trying to _recruit_ me?" Arawolf cackled suddenly, a loud, half-mad laugh that made the neck-fur on most of the audience stand on end. Sudarshan managed to look unruffled only because of his Stu-ness. "Oh, that's good! Listen, pea-brain, I'm here to fight things like you. I'm a Sue-Slayer. I'd eat Stus like you for breakfast if you didn't taste so bad. Now, shut up and DIE!"

Arawolf darted forward. Sudarshan raised his blade to a guard position, expecting another melee attack. Instead, Arawolf's left arm flicked forward, sending the floppy black _thing_ flying out at the ferret. It landed on his right shoulder. For a brief second, he looked at it blankly.

Then Arawolf tugged the string. The floppy cloth contracted. A stunned expression crossed Sudarshan's face as his right arm – sword and all – fell to the ground. The Flying Guillotine was jerked back to Arawolf's paw in the same instant, where she held it as though it had never been gone at all.

"Ready to give up?" Arawolf taunted, swinging her scimitar idly by her side.

Sudarshan bent down and picked up his sword in his left paw. "'Tis only a flesh wound," he replied.

Arawolf's mouth dropped open. "_Flesh wound? _Your arm's off!"

Silence reigned for a few moments in the arena. Then Arawolf realized just what they had each said and started to howl with laughter. Sudarshan stood still, staring at her, not quite sure if he should press the fight or edge away slowly, just in case insanity was catching.

"Right, then," Arawolf finally said, gasping for air and for control. "You want to play it that way? Fine. I've no problem with lopping off every other limb you possess."

* * *

"Oh," Aelin moaned in the hosts' booth. "There goes the rating for this fic!"

* * *

This time, Sudarshan attacked. Arawolf ducked and dodged as much as she blocked, waiting for her opening. Time and again, she flicked her left paw as though throwing the Guillotine, and got a laugh out of seeing Sudarshan flinch back every time. Finally there came a point when Sudarshan didn't react, and Arawolf siezed the opportunity. By the time the ferret noticed the strange weapon flying at him, it was too late. With another jerk of the string, the Stu's left leg was gone.

He began to hop about, trying to continue the fight, seemingly incapable of bleeding to death. That was fine with Arawolf. She wanted to enjoy this.

Then Sudarshan turned around too far on a hop. Arawolf shot forward with her scimitar and took off the ferret's lovely, creamy-brown tail.

He stared down at the appendage with dull eyes, then raised his face to the pine marten again. Sudarshan's once-brown eyes were fiery red and were literally throwing sparks.

Arawolf rolled her own eyes at the cliché.

"You'll pay for that, pine marten!" The Villain-Stu roared, raising his bright sword in his one good paw. Arawolf swung at the up-raised arm, taking it off just below the elbow.

The sword and paw hit the dusty ground with a muffled thump.

"EEEEEYAGH!"

Sudarshan threw himself bodily at Arawolf, determined to win although he only had one limb left. Arawolf sidestepped and quickly relieved the ferret of that particular problem – within moments, he had no limbs to speak of.

With loving care, Arawolf hung the Flying Guillotine from her belt and advanced on the helpless Stu, scimitar at the ready and the ever-present maniacal gleam in her eyes brighter than usual.

She clearly wasn't going to grant Sudarshan the mercy of a quick death.

* * *

Aelin jumped up from her seat. "Turn off the cameras down there!"

Kalyn leaned out over the railing around the box. "Oh. My. Giddy. Aunt."

"Show's over!" Aelin said hurriedly, facing the only remaining camera the non-live audience could see. The first screams of pain were rising from the arena. "Hope you enjoyed it, I think it's safe to say Arawolf's won..."

"Force, I think I'm gonna be sick! Aelin, Arawolf just – "

"Tune in sometime next week for our next show, in which we will have two beasts battle the same Sue or Stu. Until then, everybeast! Bye!"

Aelin turned away to look out the box. If otters could pale, she would have. "My God, I didn't think that was possible. Oh, cheeze, is that his _stomach_ she just took out?"

Another scream echoed up from below. Aelin looked back at the camera, eyes wide. "Is that camera still running? Quick, shut it off, shut it off!"

Static.

**A/N: **Well, that's it for this one. In case you were wondering, the code-phrase used earlier is Latin meaning "An invitation to death." Appropriate, yes?

Any questions, comments, and concerns may be left in the form of a review. Feedback is appreciated. I'll try to have the next chapter up next week, possibly earlier. Keep your eyes out there!


	3. Vengeful Stu

****

It's been a while, and I apologize for that. Inspiration has been hard to come by, as has time. Even as I write this, I am giving up my last opportunity to study for a Psychology test.

**But that's okay. I hate studying anyhow.**

**Last time, I forgot to credit storiewriter for the portion she put down. So here it is: she wrote the section with the really flowery language, a style that I absolutely cannot, for the life of me, pull off.**

* * *

Though the day wasn't as bright as it had been for the last show, enough woodlanders showed up to fill the stadium seating sufficiently, and the special guest box was absolutely packed, with two ferrets, a stoat, a hare, a weasel, and a squirrel all sharing the prime seating. It obviously was not by willing choice, however: the hare and squirrel sat against one wall, while most of the others lounged at the other end of the box.

_Most_ of the others, because the stoat was crouched in a corner, gibbering meaninglessly.

A security hare came in after a few minutes and hoisted the poor creature to his footpaws. "Don't think he'll quite make it through the show," the hare said in explanation, though every other beast in the box didn't seem to care much. "Poor chap…feel sorry for him, really I do. Trapped in a swamp, he was…bound to go off his rocker."

With that, Rawback was gently escorted out of the theater to return to the Mossflower rehab hospital.

Yet more time passed. The young weasel stretched out luxuriously in the soft seating, yawned, and turned his brilliant blue eyes on the hare and squirrel sitting at the other end of the box. With an easy confidence, he slid a few seats over, closing the distance by half, gave them a quick smile, and introduced himself.

"Hello! My name is Klitch." He held out a paw to shake.

The squirrelmaid eyed him warily. "Trisscar," she said tersely. She ignored the offered paw.

"Maudie Mugsberry Thropple, the Hon. Everyone calls me Mad Maudie, though," the haremaid replied, more easily than Trisscar. She seized Klitch's paw in a vice-like grip and pumped it twice. "Pleased t'make your acquaintance."

Klitch smiled even as he slowly eased his now-sore paw open and closed at his side. "Trisscar, Maudie. What brings you here on this fine day?" He gestured at the sky outside the box, thick with grey clouds, with a small laugh.

"We got invitations, from…lessee…" Maudie whipped a slip of paper from her tunic and examined it. "Kenzie Farsight," she finished. The paper was tucked back into its previous hiding place.

"Interesting," Klitch replied. "I also received an invitation from…Kenzie."

One of the ferrets, a female dressed in corsair garb very unlike the smart yellow tunic that Klitch wore, leaned over to join the conversation. "I got my invite from somebeast called Jarrtail."

"And you are?" Klitch's tone remained polite and his manner easy – there was no way to tell what he thought of anybeast there.

"Romsca," the ferret replied, thumping a fist against her chest. "And that there's…what'd y'say yer name was again? Mask or sumthin?"

"Veil," the other ferret corrected. His face revealed a hint of smugness as he added, "And I got _two_ invitations: one from Jarrtail, one from Kenzie."

Silence filled the box for a few short moments.

"So?"

Veil stared at Trisscar, unsure how to reply at first. "Well…it means…um…I – I have more fans than you! So _there!_"

"Bet they love you for your wit, wot?" Mad Maudie said with a wink. With no idea how to reply to this seeming jab, Veil fell silent.

Just then, two figures stepped out onto the low wooden stage erected at the center of the arena, and a stone plinth rose from the wood, topped once again by the strange bronze device.

"Welcome," Aelin called out over the slight hum of conversation. Slowly, the buzz fell away to almost nothing. "Welcome to the _second ever_ Mary-Sue Showdown!"

A roar of approval rose from the crowd.

"First, a quick message. Last episode's…ah, ending…caused a bit of a stir, as you well know. As such, we are no longer allowing anybeast to bring dibbuns in to watch live, just in case. Really, the dibbuns shouldn't have been allowed in the first place. We can't control who watches the televised version, of course, but hope that nobeast too young is being allowed to see…well, really, all this violence. Might have a bad impact on their psyches."

"And now," Kalyn put in, twisting a button on the pensieve-projector as she spoke, "enough of all that…"

A convertible ceiling closed over the open roof of the stadium, dropping it into darkness, as the projector whirred to life and threw the capture story up onto a screen.

* * *

Otter and squirrel stepped out of a shimmering Otherpath portal into the middle of a dark, stormy woodland. Wind lashed at the treetops, setting up a howling din that faded to background noise after being listened to for only a minute or so. Lightning flashed with alarming regularity, whitening the treetops, and thick sheets of rain drenched everything it could reach.

"Are you sure we're in the right place?" the squirrel shouted over the sound of wind and rain. She tugged the hood of her dark green cloak up over her ears in an effort to stay relatively dry. "This is a _hurricane_, I swear it must be!"

"Think of the Stu we're out here to get," Aelin shouted back, striking out for a muddy path. Unlike Kalyn, the otter seemed perfectly fine with the rain, though she did stop to take off her cloak and replace it so it covered her short swords. "Then remember that not all Sues/Stus are butterflies and sunshine. Right?"

"…Right." Shivering, Kalyn hurried after Aelin, her cloak becoming darker and heavier by the minute, despite being 'waterproof'.

Suddenly, the rain stopped falling, the wind stopped howling, and lightning flickered dangerously only at the edges of clouds. The grey cover broke, revealing a crescent moon that managed, despite its relatively feeble light, to send down a shaft of pure silver into the forest.

"That is where we're headed," Aelin said, pointing at the light-shaft. "Sudden calm before or after a fight."

"Let me guess…drama."

"Right in one."

"Great."

* * *

By the time they reached the (surprise, surprise) clearing illuminated by moonlight, their footpaws and the hems of their cloaks were muddy, and enough water had dripped off of trees to finish soaking Kalyn's cloak straight through. Aelin had to try hard not to laugh every time she saw the grey squirrel's sodden, straggle-furred tail flick out from under her green cloak.

"Not funny," Kalyn said, catching Aelin's grin from the corner of her eye.

"Yes it is."

"Now hang on a minute!" Kalyn exclaimed in fury. Aelin shuffled clear of her quickly to gain more room if it came to a fight, but came to an abrupt halt when she realized that the squirrel's eyes were not fixed on her. "How come _his_ tail doesn't look like a drenched rat's?"

Aelin followed her gaze out into the clearing. Standing there over the bodies of several nondescript vermin was a magnificent black squirrel. He leaned on a longbow nearly as tall as himself, looking up at the moon without any sort of expression whatsoever on his face. And, sure enough, in spite of the thick rain that had fallen not two minutes before, his tail was as full, thick, and fluffy as though the night had been perfectly clear.

"That's the Stu," Aelin said.

"No kidding, Sherlock."

"No need to be grumpy."

Kalyn scowled at Aelin. "Let's just get this over with, okay?" She pulled out a medallion. "Any ideas how we're going to get him to accept this?"

"Well, he's supposed to have a major problem with vermin…good luck charm? Memento of some other goodbeast killed by this warlord of his? I dunno…improvise!"

Through it all, the black squirrel had not moved from his position regarding the moon. Kalyn tucked the medallion away again, composed herself, and marched out into the clearing with Aelin close behind.

Five feet away from the squirrel, Kalyn spoke up.

"Excuse me…?"

The squirrel visibly jumped, whipping around and bringing a silver-tipped arrow to bear before either of the Sue Slayers could blink. Just as quickly, he lowered the bow and relaxed the string.

"I apologize," he said in a smooth voice. "I was not expecting two maids here, but rather more vermin. May I ask what you are doing out here? A battlefield…well, it's not the best thing to see."

"We're used to it," Kalyn said abruptly. "So don't worry there. Actually, we've been looking for you."

The black squirrel stared at her inquisitively.

"We heard," Aelin said, drawing the Stu's attention for a brief moment, "about a pure black squirrel, hunting vermin, and we wanted to meet you. You see, we've lost friends and family to warlords as well."

Kalyn did her best to look sad. The Stu fell for it.

Putting his arrow away and his bow on his back (how, no beast knew…) he reached out and took one of Kalyn's paws in his own. She visibly tried not to flinch away.

"I understand," he said. "And I will do my best to avenge them for you, if you wish. Tell me, what is your name? I have never seen fur of such a shade of silver before."

Kalyn's eyes widened in agonized horror. The Stu took this for delighted surprise. Aelin quickly stuffed a fist in her mouth and turned her back to hide her laughter.

"Si-_silver_?" Her voice squeaked higher than normal. The Stu nodded solemnly.

"You seem a highly unusual squirrelmaid – every other squirrel I have met is red-furred, but you are different…like me."

Kalyn pulled her paw away, clenched it into a fist, and fought with herself. She must _not_ haul off and slug him, she must _not_, they had to trick him into taking the medallion, they had to trick him, must _not_ punch…

With an exasperated growl, Kalyn turned away and stalked off, pausing by Aelin to murmur, "I'll be by that big old tree over there. Yell when you've got the bugger. I want to see him _die_." She moved on, slipping the medallion out of her pocket so it fell to the ground. Aelin picked it up, fighting snickers.

"Was it something I said?" the black squirrel asked the otter quietly. "If so, I apologize. My life has been all about fighting vermin; I am not one for words."

"I'm _sure_ you aren't," Aelin said, hiding her sarcasm as well as she possibly could in the circumstances. "No, you're okay. It was the mentioning of her silver fur…Kalyn's a little conscientious about it, because it marks her as different. Makes her a…target for warlords. Absolutely hates it, plus it brings about…er, bad memories. But we can't do anything to cover it up."

"Kalyn." He said, testing the name out. "Kalyn…Silverfur, I would think. It fits."

Aelin choked briefly, resolving to make a note of the new 'name' and use it whenever possible to tease the grey squirrel. "Yes, I suppose so. Here, she dropped this. We meant to give it to you as a memento of all goodbeasts killed by warlords…but perhaps it can be a sort of…token of friendship. We'll be going our separate ways soon, but perhaps if you ever see us again, we'll know each other by this medallion. Kalyn has a duplicate."

"Thank you," the squirrel said, taking the item and draping it about his neck. "But I would never forget anybeast with such a striking appearance."

"Don't thank us yet," Aelin said cryptically, then yelled over her shoulder. "KAAA-LYN! Don't you have something to say?"

An answer echoed viciously back from the edge of the forest. "YES, I DO. _DIE, SUESCUM! _ACTIVATING CODE PHRASE: _EXECUTE ORDER SIXTY-SEVEN!"_

With a surprised shout, the black squirrel was sucked away through the Otherpaths.

* * *

With a whirr and click, the projector shut down and sank below the ground again. The convertible ceiling spun back into storage smoothly, though it didn't do very much to change the lighting in the stadium: cloud cover overhead had darkened so that the sky was very nearly black itself. A few more clicks sounded throughout the arena as tall, massive floodlights flickered into life, lighting up the entire area. On the stage, Kalyn was standing stock-still, her fluffy tail wrapped securely over her face. Aelin had one paw clamped over her own muzzle and was trembling with suppressed laughter.

"_Heheheh…_oh, sorry. Anyhow, where…_heheh_…where are we? Oh, yes. Introducing our combatants."

The low stage began to sink, lowering slowly until it was level with the sand-coated floor of the arena. Suddenly, neither squirrel nor otter stood in the center of the arena; instead, they were up in the same high box that they had observed from in the first episode, opposite the invited characters' seating.

"First, we have the Stu. Name of Jaromil Everard Belenus _Zeus Oliver_ – okay, naming conventions clearly aren't his strong suit – Zeus Oliver Savas Fateblades. Runs with the title 

'Black Arrow of Justice.' Black squirrel. His goal: to kill every vermin he sees. His motive: some warlord or another went and killed off family, etcetera, etcetera. You all know how this one goes."

The crowd BOOed impressively as the Sue-gates (this time with a pattern of dark clouds and blue lighting instead of the twirling vines) whirred open and the black squirrel, Jaromil, glided out, anger radiating from his form. His bow and quiver of arrows were gone, replaced instead by two long knives at his belt. He halted at the center of the arena, looked about, and caught sight of Aelin and Kalyn sitting in the box above him.

"YOU!" he shrieked. "How _could_ you? Traitors! Siding with vermin, you will suffer the same fate as any of them! You are not worthy of your species!"

"AS FOR OUR SLAYERS," Aelin shouted, barely managing to rise over Jaromil's ranting, "WE HAVE TWO NEWCOMERS TEAMING UP FOR THIS FIGHT: JARRTAIL THE FERRET AND KENZIE FARSIGHT THE RAT!"

Out of the Sue-slayer gate strode two figures, about as mis-matched as it was possible to be. On the left, a tall male ferret walked forward with calm confidence. A scimitar and a pair of daggers swung from the snakeskin belt around his waist, and he wore a plain black vest and pants.

On the right, a female rat was fairly bouncing in excitement and nerves. Everything about her appearance appeared haphazard, right up to the pair of strong glasses perched crookedly on her long muzzle. In her paw she clutched a fencing saber.

"We have five special guests here today. It was going to be six, but Rawback had to go home. I'm afraid that these shows have a little too much…excitement…for most beasts who have gone certifiably insane.

"Anyhow, these guests are: Romsca, the ferret corsair! Klitch, son of Ferahgo the Assassin! Mad Maudie Muggsberry Thropple, the Hon.! Veil Sixclaw, the outcast of Redwall! And Trisscar, swordmaid of Redwall!"

Jarrtail and Kenzie took a moment to wave at the special guest box (the glare of the lights was too much to see through the shadows under that box) and grin. The characters could see them easily, though, and most waved back, though Veil did so with a muttered, "you do _one_ little thing, get kicked out of _one_ Abbey, and that's how you're known for life…" and Klitch seemed a little put out because he was only known as the son of Ferahgo.

Meanwhile, Jaromil had stopped throwing his royal fit to stare coldly at the Slayers. "Have at thee, vermin," he said after a few moments. "I may be in this fight against my will, but I swear now that I will rid the world of you and all the foul creatures like you, who seek to douse the light of –"

"Good grief, do you ever shut up?" Kenzie lifted her saber and sighted down the blade, pointing it at the squirrel's chest. With a quick flourish, Jarrtail drew his scimitar and saluted, whipping it down to point at the ground by his side.

Jaromil managed to twist his face into a snarl without looking ugly or demented, drew his twin knives, and charged at the Slayers faster than blinking. He faked a move toward Jarrtail, startling the ferret into stumbling back a few steps, then turned furiously toward Kenzie. The rat's fighting style, being better suited to offense than defense, faltered under the rain of blows so that, soon enough, Kenzie was nicked in three different places and had given up blocking in favor of ducking and dodging.

Jarrtail covered the distance between himself and Jaromil's back in two long strides. Restraining his shout until the last moment, the ferret swung his scimitar hard with both paws 

from right to left. However, in a move that demonstrated every possible piece of Stu grace, timing, and physical strength, the black squirrel jumped straight up and performed a triple flip over Jarrtail's head, coming down behind the ferret.

He then ducked, barely avoiding the scimitar as it kept moving in its arc to spin Jarrtail around fully.

The three combatants paused for a moment, Jarrtail and Kenzie standing beside each other, staring at Jaromil, each one waiting for the other to make the first move.

In the end, it was Kenzie who forced the fight to start again.

"HEEEEEEYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" The rat rushed forward, throwing herself at the squirrel in a series of quick, hard slashes that had no rhyme, reason, or pattern to them except for _go one way then another_.

Jaromil blocked every blow with his twin knives, utter grace and fury in every movement. Until, that is, Jarrtail joined in.

Facing two opponents, both of whom were wielding longer weapons and carrying the offensive part of the fight, the Stu began to fall back.

_CLANG!_ A knife met the saber over his head.

_CRASH!_ The other short blade fended off a horizontal blow to his left.

_CLANK!_ The saber flicked down, across, up again in a feint until Jaromil caught it against the crossguard of his right knife.

Suddenly, a sweeping blow by Jarrtail's scimitar knocked one knife from Jaromil's paw.

"YES! TAKE THA—OOMF!"

The ferret folded over, collapsing on the sand to struggle for the wind that had been knocked out of him by Jaromil's sudden, vicious kick to his exposed gut. Distracted by her partner's plight, Kenzie barely managed to duck a swipe from the squirrel's only remaining knife.

The Stu flipped and rolled away, coming to a halt near the center of the stadium. In his right paw, resting light as a feather, was a massive sword as tall as himself and nearly as wide. He took a fighting stance and waited for the 'vermin' to make the first move…_toward their deaths_, he thought.

"Wh—where…the…h-h-heck…did that…?" Jarrtail managed to gasp out, clutching his side. Kenzie bent down and helped him stand back up.

"I dunno. One moment, knife – the next, sword. You okay?"

"Better…soon," Jarrtail replied. With effort, he slowly regained his breath and returned to a normal breathing rate. Kenzie handed him his scimitar, which had fallen from his paw.

"Okay," Jarrtail said, looking at Jaromil even though he spoke to Kenzie. "He's now…_whew_…got a longer reach than either of us, and I don't think we can count on the size of that thing to wear down his strength any faster. We've got to really work together here. At least now he can't defend two sides at exactly the same time…not easily, anyhow."

Kenzie nodded, then sucked a breath in through her teeth. With a nasty grin, she cocked a head at the floor of the arena some twelve paces behind Jaromil. "I think I know how he got that sword…"

* * *

In the center of the stadium, Jaromil waited patiently. He could have finished the vermin off easily at any time there, had it all over with. They would have done the same to him, he was 

certain of it. But no, he had more honor than that. Everybeast he killed had one chance, and one chance only, to either give up the fight or choose to press it. This was their choice.

So far, not one beast had ever given up except as a pretense to get close enough to finish Jaromil off dishonorably.

He did not trust these two to be any different.

With a massive sword raised at his side, Jaromil watched the ferret recover, the rat give him back his scimitar, the two of them face him as though they had a hope in the world of besting his abilities in battle. The thought made him smile in confidence. No, what they had in sheer ferocity, he bettered with skill, speed, fury, and a just and noble cause.

They finally seemed to reach a consensus. Jaromil lifted his sword higher than before and got ready.

* * *

In the invited character box, 'discussion' over the fight was heating up.

"Look, the bally thing's got a huge sword, there's _no way…_"

"Ah, but never underestimate the power of a ferret. Or a rat, I suppose, but I'm betting that Jarrtail takes the thing out single-pawed."

"Oh, right," Maudie snorted. "Sure, he will. Say, Klitch, ol' chap, mind telling this…_Outcast_…just how bally brainless he is? I don't want to waste my voice on it."

"I think…I think that I'll stay out of this one," Klitch replied, raising both paws.

"Which side are we supposed to be cheering for, anyhow?" Trisscar suddenly asked Maudie. "I mean, we've got a clear goodbeast on one side and vermin on the other, but…"

"Now, hang on thar! I _object_ the word 'vermin'! Some _vermin _ain't that bad, really. 'Sides, you, missie, are jus' as much a rodent sort as the most of us!"

Trisscar's tail bristled. "Care to repeat that, corsair?"

"Can't take the truth?" Romsca grinned and tugged at an ear. "Little goody-two-paws don't want to accept that some o' us _bad types_ aren't that diff'rent from the _good types_?"

With a howl, Trisscar launched herself at the ferret corsair.

* * *

Despite their agreement to rush the Stu together, Kenzie got there first. Desperately trying to avoid that giant, impossible blade, the rat leaped in low, sliding across the sand on her stomach and swinging for a footpaw. The black squirrel jumped out of the way with the precision of a ballet dancer, sweeping his sword across the ground. It was pure luck that Kenzie had not yet stopped sliding, and so managed to get safely out of range.

Jarrtail darted forward while Jaromil's sword was busy taking a swipe at Kenzie, but the black squirrel turned with speed that probably defied a few laws of physics and blocked the ferret's blow.

"And now, vermin," Jaromil said softly, calmly, "you die."

"'Vermin' this, you…" Kenzie jumped forward and took a quick swipe at Jaromil's beautiful tail. For once, the squirrel couldn't quite move fast enough; a huge chunk of fur fell to the sand. Enraged, Jaromil thrust Jarrtail away and swung at the rat, putting his back to the ferret for a few moments.

Jarrtail swept his scimitar up at a diagonal, left to right, and managed to cut a thin score across Jaromil's side and back. Instantly, smoke began to curl from the edges of the minor wound with a hissing, sputtering sound. Jaromil arched his back and screamed aloud.

"Garlic on the blade," Jarrtail said to Kenzie as he ducked the giant, now flailing sword. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Stayin' alive is what's beautiful right now," Kenzie said, dodging another erratic blow and darting in to cut another shallow score across Jaromil's footpaw. The squirrel jumped back a little in a delayed reaction.

"Should be a bit easier with a little garlic in his system," Jarrtail replied. He quickly proved that point by stepping back out of the way of the giant sword, then rushing forward and cutting another quick stripe down the squirrel's left fore-arm. Jaromil cried out again, and the paw fell from the sword's hilt to hang limp at his side. He scrambled back further, step by step, until, unknowing, he stood at the edge of a large hole as black as the inside of Cluny's heart.

Nodding at each other with wide grins, Jarrtail and Kenzie rushed him one last time.

"NO!" He shouted, "I CANNOT BE DEFEATED THIS WA—"

_SSSZZZZZZ…_

Jarrtail sheathed his scimitar in the same motion he had used to cut off the squirrel's head just as Kenzie lifted one footpaw and planted it square in the (er…former?) Stu's chest.

The body, sword and all, fell into the plothole, which zipped itself closed moments after swallowing the Stu.

Jarrtail looked at Kenzie.

"Well, the finishing move was cool…but don't you think that was a bit anti-climactic?"

Kenzie shrugged. "Maybe so. But, hey, it worked. I like kicking things into plotholes when they don't belong."

"TAKE THAT BACK, YOU VILE, EVIL LITTLE TOAD!"

Startled, the new Slayers looked around for the source of the shout. They quickly found it in a miniature riot centered on the invited character box…a riot that was spreading throughout the audience as each beast took a side: vermin or goodbeast. As they watched, a figure in a yellow tunic (now torn along the bottom and with one sleeve gone) dropped from the box to the sandy ground below. It staggered to its feet, wavered for a moment, and looked over at Kenzie and Jarrtail.

"Never," Klitch said through a puffy-looking nose, "take a side in a fight against a boxing hare without a horde to back you up. That squirrel packs a good punch, too…"

He then collapsed, unconscious and utterly oblivious to the mayhem spreading throughout the theater.

Aelin, watching helplessly from the hosts' box as security hares were drawn into the growing brawl, envied him.

* * *

**There went the Vengeful!Stu. Oh, and storiewriter didn't write any of this one. This was all me…can't you tell?**

**Leave a comment, question, or concern in the form of a review. I'll take suggestions for events in future episodes, but not all suggestions may be used.**


	4. Otherworld Sue

The sun shone gloriously down upon the MMSS arena as though it was trying to make up for the abominable weather that had hung over the entire last episode. Under the shade of a simple awning, beasts were filing into their seats, following convoluted paths between roped-off areas where the damage was still being repaired. Scaffolding sat nestled up against walls, and a hastily-built partition divided the amphitheater's seating in half. If one paid close attention, he might notice that the stereotypical woodlanders were being seated on one side, and the 'vermin' creatures on the other.

In the invited character box (which had miraculously survived the impromptu battle intact, with the exception of the front 'wall' that separated box from open air over the arena), one Tamello De Fformelo Tussock was enjoying his day off from Security duty. The lanky hare had both footpaws propped up on the creaking front wall of the box, leaning back with paws behind his head – the picture of utter relaxation.

In direct contrast, Martin the Warrior was pacing back and forth along the opposite side wall, stopping every now and then to peer out at the security forces, who were escorting beasts to their seats. For once he was without his armor, sword, or shield; as he was technically a guest this episode, he had left his personal arms locked up in his office.

"Martin, please. Stop worrying – come sit down."

Martin turned to face Laterose (alive and well due to the time-disregarding properties of the Otherpaths this theater was built in) and shook his head a little.

"I can't help but worry. Half of those hares are young recruits – and what will happen if another weasel pitches a fit out front about the separated seating?"

"Half of the hares are young, but you're forgetting the half that is older and more experienced," another male mouse pointed out calmly. He shifted in his seat to better face the once-again-pacing Martin, green Abbey habit rustling with the movement. "They can take care of things. Go on and sit down – you've got a day off! Look at Tammo…he's not letting anxiety ruin that for himself."

"Right y'are," Tammo agreed, gazing lazily up at the ceiling. Martin relented and took his seat between Rose and Matthias.

Shouting rose from the outside seating, and he leapt up again to see what was going on.

"SEGREGATION! DISCRIMINATION! I'LL SIT WHEREVER I BLOODY WELL WANT TO!"

"Oh, great," Martin groaned. He made a move towards the exit, but Rose stood up and blocked his path.

"Please, Rose, I've got to get out of there and take care of this…that stoat's going to get out of hand…"

Martin stepped left. Rose stepped with him. He moved to the right – she moved as well. Growing tired of this dance, Martin stopped and tried to stare the beautiful mousemaid down. Snatches of argument drifted toward them from outside.

"…_racist_, species-ist…don't care…"

"Sah, I have to tell you…sit down…hosts…explain…"

"…is an _OUTRAGE…_laws about this…"

"You'll find…Otherpaths…no jurisdiction…now, please, sit…"

"Fine…see if I ever…"

The sounds dwindled away, falling below the ordinary hum of conversation.

"See?" Rose said quietly. "All taken care of. Your security forces can handle those sorts of things – don't worry. Now, let's just sit down. The show will be starting soon."

"Starting _now_, it looks like," Matthias suddenly said, pointing. In the middle of the arena, the makeshift stage and projector had risen from the sandy ground, and striding towards it from a small door concealed in the wall were the now-familiar figures of brown otter and grey squirrel. "Come on, Martin."

The great warrior sighed and gave up, allowing Rose to pull him by the sleeve to their seats.

* * *

"To those of you familiar with the Mossflower Mary Sue Showdown, welcome back! To newcomers; welcome!"

The audience cheered. Kalyn stepped forward with her microphone.

"Some of you may have noticed that we are implementing new seating arrangements here. Due to the…issues presented in the last episode, we are introducing segregated seating. Yes, we are separating you all according to 'vermin' and 'woodlander' stereotypes. Yes, we know that 'separate but equal' almost never works out in practice. No, we aren't changing our minds because we cannot trust some of you _not_ to act like spoiled dibbuns."

"We apologize for this," Aelin continued. "And in an effort to make it a little more equal, every episode the sides each group sits on will switch. Perhaps in a few episodes we will take down the partition and show a little trust in allowing you to sit where you wish. For now, though, consider this a preventative measure."

"If you have any private issues with the side you are seated on," Kalyn said, "Please present your case individually after the show."

They paused for a few moments, allowing the audience to absorb their message.

"Now, then, on with the show itself," Kalyn said. She turned off her microphone, twisted a knob on the projector, and stepped back.

* * *

Aelin the otter stood outside a nondescript wooden door, tapping on it and calling through the crack between door and doorjamb. "Kalyn? C'mon, Kalyn, I want you to help!"

"Go 'way."

"Please?"

"No."

"It's a Sue this time, and it's not a squirrel or anything…come _on_! How was I supposed to know that thing would react that way?"

Silence hung in the air for several long moments. The otter sighed and leaned a little more heavily against the doorframe.

"You don't think this is fair, do you? That the world's out to get you…is that it? Kalyn, you're being stupid with this!"

"You weren't embarrassed within an inch of your LIFE in front of everybeast!" The voice, muffled behind the door, nevertheless came out loudly enough that one could hear a breaking sound in the middle of it. "Now go AWAY and fight your own stupid battles!"

"Remember when Arawolf and Kelaiah fell into that Sue-trap? They were hit with doozies…they probably couldn't even remember their own names, let alone that they were Sue-Slayers. You didn't have it nearly that bad…he didn't affect you at all! Now stop moping. If Kel and Ara can bounce back and keep fighting, you certainly can."

Something thumped loudly behind the closed door, but no other sounds came out.

"Fine, I'm going then. I've left directions on the counter and on the computer screen if you change your mind. But while I'm gone, you just think about _why_ you're hiding in there. Cowardice ill becomes you, Kalyn."

The otter waited a few seconds, hoping that the squirrel would relent and come out. Nothing happened, however, so she turned away and moved out through the Otherpaths.

Aelin appeared in a brightly-lit forest. Birds sang, flowers bloomed, and Redwall's high bell tower rose impressively at a small distance away. Turning in small circles, Aelin finally fixed upon the Sue's location and set off at a light trot.

Within moments, she stumbled upon a narrow dirt road that curved through the wood. Without missing a beat, the otter turned and moved along it, always heading in the general direction of Redwall.

A sudden bout of evil laughter rang out from ahead. Aelin skipped aside into the brush at the side of the path and crept forward slowly, crouching low in the leaves. Once even with the sounds, she raised her head a little and looked through some gaps in the branches.

A rag-tag group of weasels surrounded a small, pure-white mousemaid, who stood tall and unafraid in their midst, despite the many sharp knives, swords, and spears pointed in her direction.

"I have given you fair warning," she said in a clear voice. "Let me pass and repent of your evil lives, and you shall be blessed. Hinder me, and you shall be made the beasts that you are."

"Ooooh, I'm so afraid!" One of the larger vermin tossed a knife in the air and caught it again cheekily. "Watch out, mates! The liddle mousey might try an' draw that big fox-spitter o' hers."

The mousemaid's right paw fell to the hilt of the gigantic golden broadsword belted to her narrow waist, but she hesitated a moment.

Just then, Aelin felt something brush the fur at the back of her neck. She reached back with annoyance to swat away what she thought was a fly, and froze when her paw encountered something sharp and hard.

"Well, now," a voice said clearly from somewhere over her head. "Lookit what I've found!"

The group turned to look over in their direction.

"Stan' up now, slow-like. Thar's a good liddle maid…here now, who are ye, and what're ye doin' skulkin' about in the woods, eh? Dang'rous sorts out hereabouts these days, y'know."

The entire group of weasels began to guffaw. Aelin felt the fur between her shoulders stand on end and she gritted her teeth in anger. She was a Sue-Slayer! She was supposed to be better than this!

She was supposed to have a partner, watching her back…

The mouse looked at Aelin with a sort of compassion. The otter felt her insides twist. Here was the Sue, no doubt about it…now, how to get them both clear of the situation, and the Sue to come back along with her? Simple: play along.

"Aslan will protect us," the Sue said. Aelin just about did a double take. _Aslan?_

The weasels chuckled unpleasantly.

"Okay, then, lessee," one said. Obviously the leader, he sheathed his sword and stepped forward to pace around mouse and otter, appraising their weapons. "Solid swords here, good price for those…an' is that real gold?" He whistled between sharp teeth. "Could fetch a king's price up north! Same goes for Whitey."

"My name," the mouse said clearly and proudly, "is Aslana Felina Bella Rosalind Nalsa Lionheart, and I renounce you all in Aslan's name from the gift of speech!"

She raised her paws to the sky, calling out, "Oh, Great Aslan, hear me, your most favored of the mice! Please, recall your ties to our kind, ties shown through my very name, and punish these foul creatures! They are not worthy of your greatest gift – the gift of speaking!"

For several long minutes, nothing happened. Then the weasels fell to laughing again, slapping thighs and snorting with amusement.

"Oooh, funny!"

"Dunno…seems a bit mad, don' she?"

"Great Aslan, my footpaw! What a looney!"

Aelin rolled her eyes. "Listen, you," she whispered out of the corner of her mouth. "This is Mossflower. In Mossflower, no lions come along taking away speech. We get to deal with our own problems…like _this!_"

The otter launched herself at the nearest laughing weasel, grabbed hold of his spear in both paws, and kicked him square in the gut. Holding her new, much-longer weapon, she spun around…only to find the Sue flipping about, over and over again, clashing her giant gold sword against the weapons of every other weasel there, driving the lot of them back with ridiculous ease.

"Sues…never make any sense," Aelin muttered to herself. She threw the spear aside and watched as the gang was routed, beat until they fled into the woods. The Sue paused, staring at them, and turned slowly to face Aelin again. Her bright blue eyes suddenly widened in horror and her mouth dropped open – Aelin felt her stomach drop in fear and the realization that something was very wrong…

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Aelin felt the breeze of something passing quickly behind her back. Her ears rang from the screech – a very familiar-sounding screech, now that she thought about it. The otter whirled around to see a grey-furred, fluffy-tailed body extracting a sword from the body of the weasel Aelin had winded moments before.

"It was sneaking up on you," Kalyn said, not turning to face Aelin. "You oka—ah!"

Aelin grabbed Kalyn in a bear hug, squeezing until the squirrel's eyes nearly popped out.

"Ca—bree—"

"Oh, sorry."

Aelin let go and allowed Kalyn to catch her breath again.

"You…you killed him," the Sue said from behind the two. They turned to face her with a little surprise, having forgotten about her presence. "You took a life…how can you do such a thing? Is not all life precious?"

"Eh…sure," Kalyn said, shrugging a little. "Precious. Yep. But if it was gonna be the weasel or Aelin here, I was going to make sure it was Aelin."

"Sometimes it's kill or be killed," Aelin said, searching through her belt pouches. "And speaking of which…ah! Here it is."

She pulled out a golden horn inlaid with rubies and made in the shape of a roaring lion. A fine golden chain replaced what would have been a leather strap on a normal horn for hanging from a belt or over a shoulder.

"I had a funny dream last night, you see. Some lion came up and told me to look for a snow-white mouse with a golden sword and give her this. He said that it would send her help, no matter where she was or what situation she was in."

The Sue took it reverently, whispering "_Aslan_" to herself. Kalyn hid a snicker behind a fist. The Sue raised the horn and sounded it – a clear sound that rang through the woods and covered up Aelin's next words:

"Activating Code Phrase: _Incarcerous!_"

The Otherpaths wrapped around them, and they whirled away.

* * *

The projector turned off, the arena returned to normal, and Aelin and Kalyn continued their work from the hosts' booth.

"Right, this Sue is a little reluctant about the fight, but she's also darn unhappy, so this could be good," Kalyn said into her microphone. "She is briefed and waiting below, so now, let's introduce our fighters!"

"The Sue is, as you may have noticed, named Aslana Felina Bella Rosalind Nalsa Lionheart," Aelin started off. "She's supposed to be the only daughter of Reepicheep, a mouse in the Chronicles of Narnia fandom, and highly favored by Aslan, the lion that is a sort of real-life deity in that world. Observant creatures among the audience may have noticed the direct correlation between this lion's name and the Sue's."

The crowds Boo'd impressively as the Sue-gates, emblazoned with the golden face of a lion, slid open and the tiny white figure emerged, one paw gripping the hilt of her sword with determination. On her other arm, she carried a large gold shield with a red lion design upon it, and wore a tunic with the same lion rampant across the front, though in reversed colors. Head held high, she strode to the middle of the arena and waited there, a gold-fabric cape fluttering behind her.

"And now for the Slayer, who many of you may know from his _Everyone's Favorite Talk Show_, the mouse Rector!"

This time the crowd cheered. The Sue-Slayer gates slid open to let out another mouse, though brown-furred and carrying a far more functional steel hand-and-a-half sword. Like Aslana, he was dressed in a red tunic belted at the waist; unlike Aslana, it was without any golden lion designs or cape.

"Special guests for this episode, requested by Rector, are Martin the Warrior, Laterose of Noonvale, Matthias of Redwall, and Tamello De Fformelo Tussock of the Long Patrol!"

"Is it just me," Kalyn interjected, "or are we being overrun by mice in this episode?"

Rector grinned sheepishly up at the hosts' booth as he waved at his invitees.

"Let's get this thing started," Kalyn said into her mike. She reached behind her for the bellrope and pulled.

_DONG!_

* * *

"_For Aslan!"_

The white mouse didn't hesitate. Shouting, she leapt forward and swung her blade high at Rector's head. He ducked and skipped back, desperately blocking a back-handed blow aimed at his side.

"I will defeat you in Aslan's mighty name!" The Sue continued in her monologue, even as she swung a heavy golden sword far too long for her size. Rector was kept on a defensive backwards dance across the arena. "You are unworthy of his gift of speech, follower of the White Witch!"

"Ex-_excuse_ me? What?"

"You would fight me to the death! You know that I am on the great and noble side of the Lion Aslan! Thus, you must be working for the evil one, who sent me to this land with a horrible spell the likes of which has not been seen since the long winter."

Rector jumped to the side to avoid a downwards strike, then darted forward, escaping back to the middle of the ring. He turned there and shouted back, "Hang on – I thought you were supposed to be Reepicheep's daughter! Reepicheep didn't exist until at least a thousand years after Jadis's death…how is it she could cast a spell on you in that case?"

The Sue stared at Rector blankly for a few seconds, blinking as she tried to wrap her mind around the logic. Finally she shook her head, giving up. "You could tell me that, servant of darkness!" And, again, she charged.

Ducking and dodging two more blows, Rector dove forward, rolled, and came up again right next to Aslana. Unable to use his sword due to the close range, he instead drew a knife from his belt and drove it upwards. Aslana caught it on her golden shield; the metal shrieked, but not a scratch appeared on its burnished surface. The lovely mousemaid jumped back, swinging her sword as she went. Rector was forced to hit the sand again to avoid it.

Once properly separated, the two started to circle each other, watching for an opening.

"Out of curiosity, are those things made of pure gold?" Rector suddenly asked.

"Forged by the dwarves themselves," Aslana affirmed. She eyed the brown mouse quizzically. "Why?"

"Well, pure gold can't be used as weaponry. It's too soft. It should bend or break every time it was hit by something."

Once again, the logic made Aslana stop and blink, shaking her head as though to clear it. Seeing that his words were having some sort of effect, Rector pressed on.

"And it's heavy! No matter how strong you are, that shield should be nearly impossible to lift. And the balance would be off for that sword – the blade is monstrously long, and you don't have a large enough pommel on the other end – it should be clumsy, impractical, to wield."

Aslana shook her head harder. The sword began to tip forward in her paw, and the arm holding the shield began to drop.

The lightbulb (or candle?) over Rector's head was nearly visible. "And," he said triumphantly, "there is no magic in Narnia that can send people – or beasts – from there to Redwall!"

Slowly, Aslana raised her head. "All things," she proclaimed, "Are possible for Aslan."

"Huh? But…you said…the White Witch…"

"I have had enough of your babbling, minion of evil! You seek to confuse me, to turn me from my mission, but to no avail!"

Aslana lifted her golden sword high and charged. Rector jumped to the side and clashed his shorter sword against Aslana's blade…

_Cha-THUNK!_

Both mice froze for an instant, staring in confusion at the steel blade that was half-embedded in the golden one. Rector jerked back on his hilt, and the sword slid free, leaving a wedge-shaped chink in the once-flawless gold.

Aslana drew back her sword and stared in confusion at the break. "What dark magic is this?" She whispered to herself. Rector rolled his eyes.

"It's not magic," he said. "It's all got to do with the mineral properties of steel and gold."

"But…but…"

"You really shouldn't have picked gold – it's very soft, like I said before."

"But…" Aslana, again, shook her snowy-white head. "Enough! Dark Powers from the Witch will not help you in this fight – goodness will prevail!"

Screaming wordlessly, Aslana raised her sword high and threw her entire weight forward at Rector. He stumbled back blindly, pointing his own blade straight at the oncoming mouse. The point of it struck her shield, but this time the steel pierced the gold. Borne down by her own weight and momentum, Aslana could do nothing to stop herself from being impaled on the sword through her shield.

Her sword fell wide, clattering to the sand from a suddenly nerveless paw. Upon impacting the arena's ground, it broke in two, parting along the fault created by Rector's sword.

Moaning softly, Aslana turned to the side and fell, her weight pulling Rector's blade from his own paw. He watched in horror mixed with pity as the mousemaid stared up at the sky, muttered something that might have been a prayer to Aslan, and shut her sparkling blue eyes. Rector edged forward nervously, staring at the white mouse's body.

Quick as a flash, her paw came up, grasped the hand-and-a-half sword, and in one fluid motion pulled it out and swung it low at Rector's footpaws. He stumbled back, falling with a gasp and clutching a shallow, bleeding slash across the front of his left leg. Aslana slumped back and breathed out her last remaining bit of air.

A puffy white cloud drifted over the sun and took on the shape of a lion's head for an instant before breaking up and scudding away.

* * *

"Get a medic down there – that slash probably hurts," Aelin said, rushing out of the hosts' booth herself to see if she could help. Kalyn looked up at the shattered remains of the lion-cloud with a sort of mild loathing.

"When Rector's better," she muttered half to herself, "I think we'll need to see about borrowing some of that Anti-sparklypoo spray of his…"

* * *

**A/N: Don't worry; Rector will be fine. It was just a scratch…you just can't trust Sues, though!**

**Next episode: our favorite ferret, Kelaiah, has a little trouble of his own with his opponent.**


	5. Delicate Sue

The weeks since the last episode of MMSS had been put to good use, it seemed. All of the stands had been restored to their former, pristine condition and, it seemed, had also been fortified to avoid any similar destruction. There was no sign of the scaffolding or equipment that had been present last time. In fact, the only thing that indicated any work had been done at all was the new, six-foot-high wall dividing the stands in half, and a similar (though smaller) partition splitting the characters' box. Both walls were studded with small plexiglass windows – clear enough to allow some conversation, but tough enough stop most thrown projectiles or boxing hare paw-strikes.

Fortunately, most beasts had grown at least tolerant toward the new, separated seating, and filed into the stands without any fuss or bother. This new smoothness of operation allowed Martin the Warrior, an invited character once again, to actually relax on his side of the wall, alongside Laterose and Gonff.

The roly-poly mousethief settled back in his cushioned seat with a pleased sigh. "Now, this is the life," he said, rubbing the metal arms of the folding theater-style chair appreciatively. "Much nicer than the stands, eh?" He pulled a tiny knife from somewhere in the folds of his vibrant yellow tunic and began to toss it expertly up into the air, catching the flashing blade again and again with casual ease.

"How in the Seasons did you get that past the security devices?" Martin demanded, sitting up indignantly. "You know weapons aren't allowed!"

"Ah, give it a rest, me mate. You're off duty!"

"That doesn't mean I can't call in one of the Generals to confiscate that."

The knife flickered back to Gonff's paw and abruptly vanished. The mousethief spread both empty paws wide with a grin. "An' if they can't find it?"

"Fine," Martin said, defeated. "I'll leave it for now, but so help me, if I see another flash of metal from you I _will_ call in security, whether they'll have to kick you out for it or not."

On the other side of the wall, a young male ferret snorted contemptuously. "Hah. If one of _us_ had a weapon, you can bet he wouldn't give up on it so easy. I hate Redwallers."

Beside Veil, Romsca shrugged lightly. "Prob'ly so, they'd come down on us. But maybe not, still."

"You kidding me?" Veil jerked his head back, motioning toward the back of the box and, indirectly, the entrance to the stadium. "Remember that Mad-eyes character? He tried to take a sword in, an' they chucked him out!"

"He was too obvious about it," a grey-furred vixen spoke up. Her voice held an oddly condescending tone. "Marching up and trying to hypnotize every security guard he came across…the idiot would have been better served by secrecy and concealment. In fact, I rather respect that mouse's skill in moving his blade beyond the security sensors. I should like to know how he did it."

"Bribery?" Veil suggested. Lantur, the vixen, shook her head impatiently.

"Those rabbits are too _upright_ to accept anything of the sort. It had to have been taken in by secret somehow. I wonder," she continued with great thoughtfulness, even as she lowered her voice enough that those on the other side of the wall could not hear her, "if the mouse might be _persuaded_ to give up his secret. I am convinced that we have not yet seen the last fight amongst the audience…and I would like to be armed in the event of another."

"Who needs weapons?" Romsca said loudly, much to Veil's discomfort. "I know _I _c'n hold me own in a fair round o' fisty-cuffs."

"I wouldn't want to just _hold me own_, as you put it. I would want to _win_, completely and undeniably."

In the shadowy corner of the box, an attractive female ferret leaned forward to peer out at the arena. Veil caught the movement out of the side of his vision.

"Hey, the show's starting!" He exclaimed. A relative hush spread through the stadium as everybeast, now used to the proceedings, quieted down and waited for the fight to begin.

* * *

"Good day, everybeast, and welcome back! I know, I know, it's been a while," Aelin said, holding up the paw that wasn't gripping her microphone in a placating gesture, "and I'm truly sorry for it, but one thing happened after another…scaffolding broke…a worker was injured on the job…there was a cave-in and it took six moles half the day just to get the underground briefing rooms back to a functional state…"

"We didn't tell Kelaiah about that last one," Kalyn broke in. "Just in case he would have refused to go down there. He still doesn't know, and if we're lucky, he won't until after the show."

"But we're back now! And, yes, this fight does indeed feature our favorite ferret, Kelaiah."

"First, though, a few quick announcements, and then our capture of the Sue."

"Right," Aelin said, pacing forward a few steps. "Okay, first off: we have a fight applicant who wants to be in a group or partner fight. Is there anybeast out there who either has not fought, and would like to with a partner, or is signed up and is willing to take on another set of paws in their upcoming battle? If so, please leave a note in our reviews and comments box."

"Be warned, though: if you want to fight but have not yet signed up, spaces are limited. I mean, _really_ limited. As in _there is only one open spot left and first-come-first-serve_!"

"Aside from that, yes, the wall is still up. It will be staying up this episode and the next, but we might see about taking it down after that and allowing free seating, depending on your behavior as a whole, right?"

"Well, that's good for now," Kalyn said, twitching her tail rapidly in excitement. "Let's get going!"

The roof of the stadium slid shut as the brassy, complex machine atop the stone pensieve bowl rose through a trapdoor in the arena's floor. Focusing on a blank, white wall, the magical object snapped to life and threw the scene upon it.

* * *

"What do we have this time?"

Aelin shoved her head hard against Kalyn's, trying to push the squirrel away from her current position looking over the otter's shoulder. Kalyn just ducked around to Aelin's left, peering at the computer screen.

"Oooh, _Arctic_ fox. There's something you don't see everyday…and I suppose that's the point."

"Get off, you're annoying!"

"I'm not _on_ anything," Kalyn pointed out, once again having dodged to Aelin's right. The otter twisted around and tried to head-but the squirrel's temple, but she moved out of the way just in time. The otter snarled nastily in frustration.

"I'm about to _hit you_!"

"Fine. Jeez, you don't need to be mean." Kalyn backed off indignantly.

"_Thank_ you."

Aelin tapped a few rapid sequences on the keyboard, forcing the printer behind the monitor to tremble into life. The otter ignored the steady vibrations rushing through desk, keyboard, and computer alike as several sheets of paper were churned out of the jerking machine, keeping her attention focused on the information on the screen itself.

The printer stilled with one last squealing whirr. Aelin grabbed the papers out of the tray and shoved them toward her partner.

"Here. Read your own copy, Miss Impatience."

Kalyn took the papers in one paw and grabbed up a black ball-point in the other. Settling herself comfortably on a beanbag chair with the information on a clipboard, she began to read. In the margins, a drawing began to emerge: a fox-like creature dressed in a flowing gown, with eyelashes so large they were horribly distracting. Kalyn considered her artwork for a few instants, then turned it toward the otter.

"What do you think?"

Aelin glanced, did a double take, and snorted. "Nice 'lashes. But an arctic fox has a smaller 'face', with a big ruff around its neck, and the tail's a bit different, too."

The squirrel scowled, stuck out her tongue, and added an impressive moustache and devil's horns to the fox-sue for the fun of it.

"Okay…" Aelin pushed her wheeled chair away from the desk and spun it to face Kalyn. "Any ideas on trapping this one?"

"What…we're making a plan? Improvisation's worked before."

"Not exactly…I mean, yeah, we've gotten all those others to accept the transporter and all, but if you remember, I did plan that little gauntlet-trick around the first Stu, whatshisface. And the amulet thing…that wasn't planned so much as _we're running late quick let's grab the first thing we can find_. I still think we could have done better than an amulet if we'd thought it out, and we could've done a lot better with the story."

"Don't remind me."

"Sorry. Oh, and while we figured out the whole horn of Aslan thing for that otherworld Sue, we didn't exactly have a decent plan of action."

"But it worked."

"Luckily."

"So why the sudden change of course?"

"Luck's going to run out someday – we aren't Sues. We aren't perpetually fortunate and always able to get our target on the first try through improvisation. Thus, the planning. Besides, I planted extra sensors in this one's general location. We have a little more information available; I want to make use of it."

"Okay, fine." Kalyn scanned her document. "Uhh…Arctic fox, dainty, princess of far Northern reaches…father is a warlord king bent on world dominion, but she's trying to warn those in Mossflower to stop him…uck."

"The sensors also picked up that she can fight, but generally doesn't except in self-defense. And she's got a 'boyfriend': minor Stu, descendent of one of the Marlfoxes."

"Wow. This suethor really went the full distance for this one."

"Right. I'm thinking of playing on that boyfriend bit. They're just north of Mossflower right now, but separated. What if we play messengers, bring her a letter from the Stu to tell her he's all right and where to find him…"

"Only there is no letter," Kalyn guessed. "It's a transporter. I'm setting the Activation Phrase!"

"All yours."

"Yeah!"

Kalyn jumped up, white paper flying, and scampered over to the supply closet. Diving far into the back, she dug through the storage crates and old cardboard boxes in a near-frenzy, searching for some parchment and calligraphic pens.

"You don't need to be too convincing with the writing," Aelin pointed out, belting on her special Sue-fighting pouches and weaponry. "If we fold it up, she shouldn't have time to unfold it before the transporter kicks in."

"Aw, but I want to have fun!"

Kalyn slapped the torn piece of parchment down on their counter and hurriedly scribbled on it a short message:

_**You are being cordially invited to take part in a fight to the death with a randomly-chosen enemy. No RSVP required; you are coming with us whether you like it or not.**_

_**Have fun.**_

"That'll do." Kalyn capped her pen and folded the parchment up into quarters, sealing it with a bit of candle wax.

"Let's go, then."

Together, they marched over to the large wooden door in the wall. Aelin grasped the handle and pulled it open, and both dove through into the Otherpaths.

* * *

The moment they stepped out into a barren, scrubby land, a sharp scream split the air – and their eardrums. Clapping paws to their ears, both otter and squirrel dropped to the ground, taking scant cover under a half-dead bush of some sort.

"Where the Force did you take us?"

"It's supposed to be the Northern Reaches, don't ask me!"

The pounding in their ears gradually lessened until they could hear gruff, guttural voices nearby, interspersed with a high-pitched, frightened-sounding one. Cautiously, they raised their heads above the bush and, finding themselves near the top of a hill, crawled upward to peer over the crest.

There was their Sue. Unmistakably white in the grey-brown terrain, she crouched trembling in the midst of a small group of various vermin wearing some kind of official-looking armor in reds and greys, most carrying pikes and swords.

"Now, then, m'princess, yore daddy'd like very much for ye t'come home now. So, if'n ye don't mind, an' even if ye do – cause we got orders, y'see – we'll be 'scorting ye back."

"Please, leave me alone. Why can't you all just leave me alone!"

Aelin winced. "A little whiny for a Sue, don't you think?"

Kalyn hummed agreement. "I've had enough of this. Guess we'd better play the valiant messengers and 'rescue' her, huh?"

"Eh, guess so. I've been itching for a fight anyhow."

"On three?"

"Right. Three!"

Kalyn sprang up, whipped her pocketknife out, and transformed it quickly – "Not a lightsaber!" Aelin hissed as she also stood and drew both of her short swords. - into a standard hand-and-a-half blade. The squirrel stuck her tongue out at Aelin before throwing herself down the slope, whooping loudly.

"TAKE THIS, MISCREANTS!"

Reflecting that it was a rare being who could use a word like 'miscreants' in the middle of a battle charge, Aelin followed, also yelling her voice out.

The nearest beast had half-turned when Kalyn's sword pierced him through the side, just under his ribs. He fell to gasp out his life on the ground as his fellows arrayed themselves quickly into defensive positions.

Aelin caught a broad-bladed sword on the flat of one of her own blades, using the other to make a return swing. The guard – or soldier – couldn't move fast enough to block or dodge and lost an ear. He dropped to the ground, sword clattering out of his grip as he clutched the side of his head and howled. The otter quickly dropped a hard Axe Kick onto his spine, knocking him flat.

A flutter of movement and sound behind her caught her attention; she half-spun, swords cocked upright and ready, only to see fluffy grey fur and a green tunic.

"Having fun yet?" Kalyn swung her sword hard with both paws, catching another soldier across the chest and flinging him bodily away in the same instant.

Aelin turned her back to Kalyn in time to knock aside a jabbing pike. "The time of my _LIFE!"_

Slamming the long weapon to the ground with both of her swords, Aelin darted forward with a quick side kick to the guard's (foolishly unarmored) gut. As the creature bent over in pain, The otter dropped and spun low, swinging her heavy tail about to catch the back of his footpaws. The beast collapsed, wheezing, then scrambled back upright again. Aelin let him stagger away, watching as he slowly broke into a halting, shuffling run across the hilly landscape. He was quickly followed by the only two soldiers still able to stand.

"THAT'S RIGHT, RUN AWAY HOME, YOU CRAVEN BULLIES!"

Kalyn waved her sword vigorously over her head as she shouted, pausing every few syllables to give it a hard shake. Aelin grinned in response, resting her own swords on her shoulders.

"Well, that was fun."

An odd snuffling sound turned their attention back to their quarry: the Sue.

She still sat crouched on the ground, one paw holding her upper body off the dirt, while the other hung in a feeble protective crook above her head. True to the winter form of Arctic foxes, her fur was thick and snowy white, with a soft ruff framing delicate, pointed facial features. Her eyes were closed, so it was impossible to see their color, and the dress she wore – pale pink at the top fading to deep red at the bottom hem and sleeves – spread out in a pool across the dusty ground, though it seemed as clean as it might have been right after a wash.

Kalyn snorted something that sounded suspiciously like _Sues_ and started toward the nearly supine creature.

The Sue's head snapped up, eyes opening to reveal a shining golden color, and she scrambled back slightly across the ground, still not picking up any dirt or dust.

"P-p-please, do not kill me! I swear, I have never hurt any goodbeast – I am not like those you call vermin!"

Kalyn stared at her for a few moments before realization dawned on her. "Oh! The swords…" Quickly, the squirrel pressed a button that returned the blade back to its normal knife state, moving as though she was sheathing it at her side at the same time. Luckily, the Sue seemed not to notice the strange shortening of the metal as it was tucked away.

"No worries," Aelin said, having put away her own swords at the same instant as Kalyn. "We could tell, and besides, we've heard something about you."

"You see, our traveling group came across a male, grey fox a few days ago and we nursed him back to health. He's told us about you."

"You know Hircolus?" The Sue was standing before either squirrel or otter could blink, clasping her hands together in a hopeful gesture. "Where is he? Is he safe?"

"He's fine. Not quite well enough to search for you, but he wrote you a quick letter and sent us out to find you and bring you back to our home."

"A letter? Oh, please, do you have it here, now?"

"'Course we do," Kalyn replied, pulling out her parchment with undisguised glee in her eyes. "It's all yours."

The Sue took it and, faster than Kalyn could draw in a breath, had unfolded it.

"Activating code phrase," Kalyn said quickly even as the Sue raised her eyes again and looked at the two in utter shock. "Hobey-ho –"

The Sue opened her mouth, either to scream or to say something, and her paws, in an attempt to drop the parchment…

"Let's go!"

With a shriek of despair, the Sue was sucked away through the Otherpaths to her briefing room under the Arena. The flash of white light cleared away, leaving the landscape bare of life except for the otter and squirrel.

"That was close," Aelin said. "So, which one are you briefing?"

"Are you kidding me? The Sue. No way am I spending fifteen minutes telling Kelaiah what's going on, not after that whole…fiasco with that…creepy…black…thing."

"Fine. Let's head back, then."

Concentrating, they tore open a hole to the Otherpaths and stepped through it…

* * *

The image on the blank wall flickered, froze, and died away quickly. The ceiling opened up again, allowing plain sunlight to stream in, and the pensieve device was lowered back into its underground location. Kalyn and Aelin had moved to their own spectator box to announce the fighters.

"And now, Ladies and Gentlebeasts," Kalyn began, waving a hand at the Sue-gates (covered in pink and gold butterfly-and-rose designs), "We have our Sue: Sucrosia Fimimoso Ludmila Haukea Goldensnowdropeyes! I will only say that once, so if you want to remember it, you'd better have memorized it that time through."

The gate whirred open, and the Sue stepped hesitantly out onto the sand, wincing as the crowd boo'ed impressively.

"The daughter of a warlord king from the northern reaches, Sucrosia is a female Arctic fox and a Delicate!Sue."

"As for our slayer, well, you all probably already know him. For those who don't, he's a little clumsy at times, and rather mild-mannered unless you happen to call him by certain names which we shall not utter here for fear of his wrath and almighty laser – and if he heard that, it won't have helped his ego any. Please welcome the fighting partner of Arawolf Beechclaw, ferret Kelaiah!"

The other gates opened to let the skinny brown ferret out. He strode into the ring confidently, absolutely beaming and waving and hoping to goodness that he wouldn't do anything foolish, like trip over his own paws. Fortunately, he reached the midpoint of the arena standing and without any sort of head deflation.

"With us by his invitation are seven characters. It might have been eight if Emperor Ublaz Mad-Eyes hadn't tried to hypnotize everybeast in his path while trying to bring a weapon into the stadium…"

"Anyhow," Kalyn said, "Our special guests are: Laterose of Noonvale! Martin the Warrior! Gonff the Mousetheif! High Queen Lantur of the Castle Marl! Romsca the ferret corsair! Veil Sixclaw, Outcast of Redwall! And his mother, Bluefen, wife of Swartt Sixclaw!"

The invited characters crowded along the edge of their box, Gonff, Romsca, and Laterose waving vigorously. Lantur raised a paw in an imperious acknowledgement of her announcement, Martin threw out a quick warrior's salute, Veil thrust a fist in the air, smiling widely despite his announcement as 'Outcast' again, and Bluefen hovered nervously, both arms crossed over her grey dress as though she wasn't sure what do to with them.

Kelaiah, grinning like mad, waved back, then bowed deeply to the females. Romsca didn't seem to realize the bow was for her (being a more 'tomboyish' type anyhow), while Lantur accepted the tribute with a slight nod. Laterose waved harder, beaming and gripping Martin's paw. Bluefen would have glowed cherry red if not for the fur covering her face.

"All right, all right, you suck-up," Kalyn said. "Let's get this fight started! Fighters, ready!"

Kelaiah considered his laser for a few instants, switching to the 'Weaponry' screen and poising a claw over the touch-screen, ready to start pressing buttons.

Kalyn reached back, grasped the rope attached to the small bell, and jerked it.

_DONG -!_

"GO!"

* * *

Kelaiah spread his footpaws into a fighting stance and waited for Sucrosia to make the first move. To his surprise and discomfort, though, the only move she made was to fall to the ground and cry out, "Hircolus, help me my love!"

A few long seconds passed, during which neither fighter moved, and the crowd began to stir and murmur restlessly. At last, Kelaiah sighed, glancing down at his laser and selecting Greek Fire. The Sue looked like one quick flame would finish her off anyhow.

"Well," he said to himself, raising it and taking aim, "This is gonna be anti-climact—AAAAGH!"

* * *

"_Where the bleedin' 'eck did that come from?!"_

"I'm calling the guards!"

"'Ow on Earth did she get 'im in 'ere?"

"She's a Sue, what else did you expect – AHA! Found it…"

Kalyn pressed a small red button under the front railing of the hosts' box, calling Security forces in to perform emergency containment – in other words, to subdue the rather large, grey-furred fox Stu that had just appeared and knocked Kelaiah across the arena.

"We sprayed this Sith-spawned stadium down with enough Anti-sparkly that I'm amazed the creatures can still function – let alone call in aid from their own little worlds!"

As the hares streamed onto the sands, Aelin began to calm down a little.

"I don't know _how_ she did it," Kalyn said. "But don't forget, you did forget to mention the Rule these last few episodes."

Aelin dropped into her seat, groaned, and began to rub at her temples, closing her eyes in an attempt to shut out the growing mayhem below.

* * *

Kelaiah slowly propped himself up on his forepaws, aching all over from his brief flight. Moaning, he scanned the ground with bleary eyesight, searching for the glasses that had been knocked off, as well as his beloved laser.

"Oooo-oooh, what hit me?" He muttered, his scrabbling paws finally knocking against something that he identified as his square spectacles after some hard peering. Putting them on, Kelaiah surveyed a scene of sudden chaos, full of bounding, leaping security hares, knotted around a single point in the arena. It took only a couple of moments for Kelaiah to realize that the hares he thought to be leaping were actually being thrown upward into the air, accompanied by mighty roars of rage.

Two seconds later, Kelaiah realized, to his alarm, that the fight was moving steadily nearer. He fell to all fours and began to search frantically for his silvery laser.

"Oh, come on, come on, where is it?"

A glint of silver caught his eye.

"AHA! Gotcha…EEEYAAAAGH!"

The hare rolled off of Kelaiah's now half-flattened tail.

"Sorry ol' chap," he said blearily. "But thanks for the soft landin' anywho…"

The hare fainted dead away, leaving the ferret to stare, bewildered, at the comically pancaked appendage. Finally, he found his voice again.

"My _tail!"_

Kelaiah tore his eyes up from the sad, sad sight and gasped in sudden fear. Skipping sideways, he only just managed to avoid being flattened the rest of the way by a rather large colonel, who fell so heavily that he left a small impact crater in the sand and made the entire arena shudder.

"Run, Sucrosia! Save yourself – I shall find you again, so run!"

Kelaiah looked frantically around for the owner of the booming, masculine voice and found it in the midst of what had rapidly become a brawl on the arena's sandy floor. There, shouting his head off and simultaneously fighting off hares, stood a grey-furred, heavily muscled (Kelaiah could distinctly see the outlines of biceps, triceps, and abdominal muscles even through that thick fur) fox. The Stu had a pink-red ribbon tied around one bulging upper arm and wore a thick broadsword across his back, along with a gigantic, steel-tipped pike. He took no notice of this fearsome weaponry, however, content with using his bare paws to beat back the security forces.

Kelaiah stared with open mouth as the Stu finished decimating the fighting hares of Salamandastron and turned slowly to face him.

The Stu glowered impressively, icy blue eyes snapping.

Despite himself, Kelaiah felt his knees go watery.

"YOU!" The Stu roared and pointed one thick, strong claw at Kelaiah. The ferret gulped and glanced quickly behind him, hoping against all hope that the fox wasn't referring to him.

"You would harm – nay, you would _slay_ an innocent maid? One unarmed, peaceful, who loves the world? You are the true vermin! You give us all an evil name – it is no wonder we are feared, scorned, attacked where'er we go! You coward! ALL OF YOU! COWARDS! SHAMEFUL, EVIL-MINDED BEASTS!"

The Stu had turned to address the entire audience. Kelaiah used his distraction to quickly glance at his laser, select the option entitled "_Laser-beam: Deep-Fry setting_," wonder if it was possible to retitle these things, and glance back up to see a pair of blue eyes staring straight down his snout.

"Oh…"

Before Kelaiah could say anything more, he was on the sand, ears ringing, gazing blankly up at a dark form outlined by the high sun, and (surprisingly calmly) reviewing the events of his life so far.

Then a tiny voice, his own voice, spoke up in the deep recesses of his mind. _Hang on…how come I'm taking this? I don't want to die…I'm too young to die! All those cheeseburgers with extra ketchup to consume…all those stories to write…I've not even gotten to tease Kalyn about her new name yet!_

He watched Hircolus draw that giant broadsword and hold it up to the sky, only barely aware of a roar like rushing water in the background – the shouts of the audience. He wondered, briefly, abstractly, if they were cheering for the fox or screaming in horror.

_That's enough of that!_ His claw moved over the laser screen. Without looking, he knew exactly which spot to touch; pain had taught him its location, weeks ago…_I'm not going down!_

Kelaiah blinked and braced his footpaws against the sand. Hircolus started to turn the sword point downward.

_Now!_

Screwing his eyes shut, Kelaiah pushed hard against the ground, throwing himself backwards just as he pressed his claw into the touchscreen, praying fervently (and somewhat belatedly) that he'd gotten the right button.

_KLANG!_

The ground shuddered.

Silence.

Kelaiah opened one eye cautiously, then the other. Sure enough, where Hircolus had been standing a moment before, there was a curiously flat grey, fuzzy spot spread out under a truly gigantic anvil.

"Yes!" Kelaiah punched the air in victory. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he fainted.

* * *

The ferret returned to consciousness as quickly as he had lost it, opening his eyes to notice that the arena was full of groaning, limping hares, all of whom were moving toward well-hidden security doors. A large group of badgers had apparently lifted the anvil onto a metal-banded cart and were heaving together to move it through the Sue-Slayer gates (they being one of the only two entrances large enough to allow the monstrosity through). Another group of hares trudged behind them hauling something that looked like a big, lumpy grey fur rug.

Kelaiah became aware of broken sobbing nearby and looked across to see the lovely arctic fox weeping her big golden eyes out. The ferret looked away before the Sue could do something to his brain, which was already leaning toward pity for her despite the fact that she had been the one to call that monster on him.

_Hey,_ _she _did_ call that thing on me! _The realization took another moment to fully sink in, and Kelaiah felt his mood growing grimmer. _She did, and she was perfectly willing to let him…get rid of me. Well, fine. If those are _her_ true colors, I can stop being such a gentlebeast about things._

Feeling far more decisive about the fight, Kelaiah stood and brushed the sand from his fur, pausing to shake out the still-flat tail. After the fight, he'd have to see if anyone would be willing to lend him a bicycle tire pump or something similar…

Shaking off the thought, the skinny ferret hefted his laser, selected the Greek Fire emblem once again, and stalked toward the kneeling white figure. She looked up fearfully as he stopped just a few feet distant, her eyes large and dark and such to rival those of Bambi, Japanese Manga characters, and the sweetest little chocolate lab puppies ever to exist…

Kelaiah wavered, glanced up and around, seeking to avoid those teary, glassy, golden eyes. He tried to focus on something else – the Sue's little ears, her nose, her clasped paws – but the Sad Eyes kept pulling his attention back to themselves.

"Doggone it!" Kelaiah threw his head back and his paws in the air in sheer frustration. "This is so…so…_undignified!_ I can't do it if she won't fight back! Aelin, Kalyn, I want a different fight – please!"

The Sue's expression changed from one of fear and sadness to utter joy. "Oh, I knew you were a goodbeast inside all along, I just felt it, Kel-kel!"

Kelaiah froze. Slowly, he lowered his gaze again, paws slack at his sides. "Ex-excuse me, but _what_ did you just call me?"

"Kel-kel," Sucrosia repeated, all innocent confusion. "Isn't that what you like being called most? Or do you really prefer Kelly?"

For several long seconds, the ferret stood stock-still. Then, he began to shiver. From the end of his tail to the tips of his ears, Kelaiah began to shake. Had he been a cartoon character, smoke and fire would have been billowing about his head.

The Sue leaned back, looking genuinely concerned.

All at once, the tension in Kelaiah exploded – "DON'T CALL ME KEL-KEL!!" – AS HE ENTERED ANGRY CAPS MODE, whipped up the paw holding his laser, and started randomly and wildly pressing buttons on the touchscreen. Sucrosia leapt to her footpaws, ducking and dodging three missiles, two laser-beams of different intensities, a wide cowboy-style lariat, a spiked grappling hook, and a burst of Greek Fire (which continued crackling merrily on the sand despite having no source of fuel).

Then Kelaiah accidentally hit the "MechTransform" button and was forced to drop the laser, which began to unfold and multiply its contents into the large robotic vehicle Kelaiah once used in a war against a spammer. The Sue, for once foregoing all delicate innocence and helplessness in favor of a short burst of bravery, drew a small rose-pink crystal knife from somewhere up her left sleeve and charged Kelaiah, screaming a small (but beautiful) battle-cry.

The ferret barely managed to yank out his own hidden knife (made of a more functional steel blade) to block Sucrosia's blow. The force of his swing knocked the crystalline knife out of the delicate white paw of the fox and, before either of them knew quite what was going on, Kelaiah had dodged forward and slid his garlic-coated knife through Sucrosia's pink-clad side.

Gasping, the Sue crumpled gracefully onto the sand, one paw gripping the smoking slit just beneath her ribs. Kelaiah halted, uncertain. Usually, that wouldn't have been a fatal wound…was she bluffing? He glanced quickly back at the finished laser-turned-mech, wondering if he ought to empty a few rounds of garlic-pellets into her just to make certain.

"Why?"

Kelaiah's gaze snapped back to the Sue, who lay spread on the ground now, gazing up at him with a slightly less intense version of her Puppy Eyes.

"Why did you react that way? I just…I just was trying…to reach the good in you…I just wanted…to bring the light to the world, to your soul at least, so you could reach others in turn…why?"

The ferret didn't even have to answer, as in the next moment, the Sue closed her eyes and breathed out one last sigh. Kelaiah stood staring at the body for a few moments, his mind working through a few last key thoughts.

Number one: The Sue called him Kel-kel, as well as Kelly.

Number two: Only so many people knew those hated names.

Number three: Even fewer used them regularly to pick on him.

Number four: Two of those people hosted this show, and the most bothersome one had _not_ briefed him.

Number five: The most bothersome must have briefed the Sue.

Conclusion: The Sue knew those names and used them because she had been told them by one Kalyn Wordsmith.

Wordlessly, Kelaiah turned and marched to directly face the hosts' booth. One look at his serious expression, and the grins slid off of both Aelin's and Kalyn's faces.

"I want there to be an understanding here, Squirrel," Kelaiah said loudly. Thanks to the great acoustics of the stadium, his voice carried easily to every member of the audience, and the applause rolled to a stop. "I am not to be called either name by you, nor are you to give those names to others with instructions to call me them."

"Who said I told her anything?"

"Nobody."

"So how do you know it was me?" Kalyn threw down her most innocent look. Kelaiah wasn't fooled.

"I wasn't born yesterday," he snapped back. "So you just keep that in mind, or else…_Kalyn Silverfur Sea-Eyes!"_

Ignoring the squirrel's sudden shriek of indignant rage, Kelaiah marched back to the mech, returned it to its laser form, and strode out of the arena, feeling more and more pleased with himself with every step he took.

Then, halfway to the gate, the ground gave off a strange-sounding groan and trembled slightly. Kelaiah's step faltered; he glanced down fearfully, cocking his head to better listen.

The ground groaned again and gave a sickening lurch. The ferret glanced behind him.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

Screaming bloody murder all the way down, Kelaiah fell through the collapsing arena's floor into the breifing rooms below, much to the mixed concern and amusement of the audience and the hosts alike.

* * *

**A/N: And thus ends episode four of the Mossflower Mary-Sue showdown. I apologize for how late it is; inspiration and time have, once again, fallen short on me. I hope I made up for it at least somewhat by the additional length.**

**For those who forgot during the course of the chapter: I do have one applicant who would like to fight as a partner to someone. First volunteer gets a helping paw. All other volunteers remain open to me as contacts for any possible future 'partner/group fighters'.**

**Note that Kelaiah gave me the name "Sea-Eyes" as a pick-on point for Kalyn, on account of her "bluish-green eyes." I did not create that one. If you admire it, point the admiration toward the ferret.**

**The code-phrase ("Hobey-ho, let's go") is a quote from a book series known as **_**Pendragon**_**. Kalyn's a fan, what can I say?**

**Well, until next time, then.**


	6. SelfInsert Sue

Moving cautiously, the cloaked, one-eyed rat crept up the roadway, keeping his good eye on the door of the building ahead. He could do this, he knew he could…as long as he didn't spot that armored mouse, he'd be fine.

He reached the edge of the forest just before the open ground in front of the arena's main entrance and paused there, peering out of the brush nervously. Open ground…well, it couldn't be helped. Swallowing hard, the scarred rodent crouched low and, using both front and hind paws to propel himself, scurried as fast as possible to the entrance. Gulping air down, he plastered himself against the sun-warmed stone wall, peering around it cautiously.

One security hare by the doors – no mouse, no armor, nothing else.

Cluny relaxed somewhat and peeled himself off of the wall. Straightening the cloak, which had been knocked askew by his haphazard dash, the rat lifted his snout and strode around the corner to the entrance.

Despite having made sure to leave all his weapons behind this time, he held his breath as he passed through the strange machines that detected the presence of weaponry. Three steps more, and he was through. For the first time since deciding the night before that he wouldn't miss the next fight at least, all the considerable tension drained from the Scourge.

Practically dancing on his toes, Cluny walked down the hall marked with simple silhouette pictures of rats, cats, stoats, and other creatures commonly called 'vermin' to an empty seat in the open air of the arena.

* * *

Once again, Romsca found herself sitting in the cushioned chairs in the shady Invited Characters box, but this time, she was alone. As time went on, the seats outside filled up, and nobeast else entered the box, the ferret began to rethink her decision to arrive early and converse with the other Invitees. Even that stupid vixen, whatsherwhiskers, _Lentil_ or whatever, would have been welcome.

Reminded of their discussion last episode, Romsca clenched her paws into fists and examined them. _Win completely_, huh. She was a corsair – she could _win completely_ without any weapons! Romsca relaxed her fists and, reflexively, glanced up to gauge the position of the sun.

The ceiling of the box was in the way.

Grumbling a little, the corsair hoisted herself up out of the grey-upholstered theater-style chair and stalked over to the railing of the box to see the sky.

Barely any time had passed.

Was she really the only one?

The ferret slumped back into her seat and tapped her claws on the arm of the chair, listening dully to the steady roar of conversation outside the box, in the stands proper.

Comfy seats or no, Romsca almost would have rather be outside, in the sun, sitting on polished wooden benches with her shipmates, slurping down those funny fizzy drinks called _Sodas_ and competing in belching contests while the stuff rose up and tickled her nose until she toppled over laughing…For a moment, the corsair contemplated ordering herself a soda, but ultimately decided against it.

What was the fun of a fizzy drink when you were alone, without anyone to fight with over it?

Even in her bored stupor, Romsca soon recognized the toning down of volume outside that signified the arrival of the two hosts. She leaned forward in her seat, propping her chin in one paw while the other played with the frayed hem of her ship coat.

Looked like she'd be watching this one by herself.

* * *

"Good day, everybeast, and welcome back to the Mossflower Mary-Sue Showdown!"

Kalyn stepped forward and raised her microphone. "Can you believe that it's already the fifth episode? Personally, I think it's amazing we've all survived so far."

"Speaking of survival, our contestants this episode shouldn't have to worry about the structural integrity of the arena. Over the past week, teams of construction moles have been working almost nonstop to make sure another cave in like that won't happen. If we got what we paid for, an earthquake probably couldn't shake the ground in here open."

"Trust me, we paid a lot."

"Which brings us to a little announcement." Aelin took a deep breath, as though she were preparing herself to say the worst, most cataclysmic thing ever.

"We're closing the show!" Kalyn blurted out.

Waves of groans spread through the audience, along with outbursts of booing. A group of teenaged vermin in the corner stood up en masse and began to chant something indistinguishable, but clearly negative. Klitch, in his yellow tunic, and Veil, who could be spotted by the red-dyed paws he held in the air, seemed to be the leaders of the chant, the former waving his paws like a musical conductor with muscle spasms.

Aelin's right paw flicked out and smacked Kalyn across the back of the head. "NO, WE AREN'T! PLEASE CALM DOWN AND LET ME SAY WHAT I WAS GOING TO SAY!"

Gradually, the audience stopped shouting and settled down to listen again.

"Thank you. What I was _going_ to say was that we're going to have to be taking on a few advertisements each episode to help cover repair and other reconstruction costs. There won't be very many, but I'm afraid they're necessary."

A few groans rose from pockets of the audience, but compared to the near-hysteria Kalyn's 'announcement' had caused, everybeast in the stands might have been dancing on their seats in joy.

"We'll be showing two or three each episode, generally at the beginning and end to give you uninterrupted fight scenes, right? So, without further ado, and just to get the pain of it over and done with, here's the episode's first advertisement, followed directly by our capture of the Sue."

The convertible ceiling whirred shut, bringing the inside into darkness as a projector – of a more 'traditional' or 'high-tech' sort than the hosts' pensieve-projector – flickered into life.

* * *

_A fantastic world…_

The screen flashes from black to a short clip showing a group of woodlanders with packs and walking sticks, picking their way over rugged hilly terrain. After only a couple of seconds, it is black again.

_A desperate war…_

What seemed to be the same group of woodlanders, doing battle against a larger, darker group of vermin. The mouse in the center drew a sword and held it up, white light blazing across the blade.

_And…_

The battle scene returns, but slowed down to dramatic half-speed as the mouse turns around to see, approaching him, a large, black figure with indistinct features. As it draws nearer, it becomes clear that this is a beast a foot taller than the mouse, clad in black armor, cape, and a mask forged in the shape of a rat's evil, glaring face.

_The truth revealed…_

The creature stops dramatically, storm clouds gathering behind it as ominous, raspy breathing sounds emerge from its mask. After a long, slow zoom in on the skull-like face, the screen flashes black one last time.

_**Wood Wars: Kingdom's Counterattack**_

_Coming only to theaters this Fall_

* * *

Kalyn stared at the screen dubiously. Out of the side of her mouth, she whispered to Aelin, "Is it just me, or did that seem very oddly familiar in a strange, suspicious sort of way?"

The otter just gazed wide-eyed at the now-blank screen, her jaw hanging loose as an odd, strangled whimper escaped her throat.

* * *

This time, the pensieve projector opened on a fairly quiet, peaceful scene. Aelin had draped herself across a thick-stuffed beanbag chair, tail dangling down on one side and her head on the other, reading a thin stack of papers that lay face-up on the floor. Kalyn had their swivel chair tilted back as far as it would go, both her paws hooked under the edge of the computer desk for stability as she also read a thin paper packet.

In another second, Aelin slid a claw under the top sheet, flipped it over, and examined the blank other side dispassionately.

"You done yet?"

"Yeah – I was rereading the first part," Kalyn replied, lowering the papers and tilting her head back to look at Aelin upside down. "That's a lot of information you pulled on this one."

Aelin shrugged, still flopped across the beanbag. "Lots of sensors, improved settings, and…I dunno…her sort seems to be easier for them to read for some reason. Not sure why."

"Hm. So, any ideas?"

"Not really. I mean, as much as the sensors pick up, it's all a mask, really. There's not a lot we can do in terms of a random encounter."

"Let's just go in and jump her, then."

Aelin looked at the squirrel with one eyebrow raised.

"Direct approach, you know. We've been getting all the others through trickery and subterfuge, right? Well this one, and probably the omniscient beast when we get around to that one, we can't be utterly certain of fooling. So we take her by surprise – throw a net over her or something, maybe make the net itself the transporter, make the activation phrase really short, and we've got it."

"Kalyn, we're lucky we can beat Sues in the intellectual sense – they often have enhanced brain power of some sort or another. I'm telling you, there's no way we can defeat them physically, not without bodily harm to either ourselves or the Sue, which ruins her for the fight later on in my mind."

Kalyn flipped herself upright and allowed the swivel chair to spring back into its normal position, spinning it around in almost the same movement to better face the otter. "Well, we need to think of _something_. You got so much information, but it's so _useless_! Where's her weak spot? Her obsession? Her love or hate? All we got is powers, origins, fighting style and other little bits that would be great if we were just going to all out fight her."

"Remembering, of course, that most of this is all a shell over her real self," Aelin countered.

"All we need is something to attach to that shell. That's all!"

"Okay, then. Brainstorm with me."

Kalyn fell silent, looking over her papers again. "She's not got any interest in jewelry or, for once, a _twoo wuvvie-duvvie_ to use against her, so that's out…"

"Raised for evil, with a really good nature deep down, but I'm not sure how we can play that into any sort of physical object or possession she might take."

"No keepsakes to steal and duplicate, nothing long-lost that we might…_heeeeey…_"

Aelin eyed the squirrel cautiously. "Kalyn, I don't like that look on your face. Wipe it off right now."

Kalyn's grin only widened as she eyed the otter (much to the latter's discomfort). "You know, with a little acrylic paint, and a red bandana and some other little props…"

"You honestly aren't thinking—"

"_Long-lost_," Kalyn pointed out, already bounding over to the closet. "That's it! Long-lost! I mean, honestly, her entire story seems to be built around being a long-lost sister to a long-lost brother and the angst that ensues from it, and it's just the right species!"

Aelin jumped off of the beanbag chair. "Now, just a minute, Kalyn, I don't think—"

"Physical confrontation or trickery, Aelin? You said just a few seconds ago that trickery's best."

"But…but…"

Aelin's response, whatever it might have been, was cut off abruptly by a tangle of fabric flung into her face by Kalyn's frantic excavations into their closet.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Kalyn, _I'm a girl!_"

"So? I bet we can still pull it off, rub a little mud into your fur, pad the clothing a bit, all that stuff."

Aelin sputtered uselessly as Kalyn loaded more fabric into her arms and spun her toward the bathroom door.

"Go change, and no arguing."

Aelin vanished into the bathroom as Kalyn pulled out a paintbrush and several brightly-colored tubes of acrylic paint, setting them in a neat line on the counter. A minute later, the squirrel glanced at the bathroom door.

"Are you done yet?"

"I look stupid!"

"Get your tail out here already – I don't care! She probably won't notice…everybeast seems to look stupid around her anyhow."

The door opened and Aelin exited, dressed in a loose off-white shirt and blue striped breeches. It seemed suspiciously like a pirate's costume, especially with the red bandana she had wrapped around the top of her head and the clip-on hoop earrings. Kalyn pointed at a stool beside the counter. Aelin sat down on it sullenly.

"Hold still."

Kalyn unscrewed the cap of the red paint tube and Aelin's eyes widened.

"That stuff'd better wash out."

"It will – it's water-based. Says so on the tube."

The otter screwed her eyes shut as the squirrel began to paint jagged designs in primary colors across the face and paws of their 'bait'.

In just a few more minutes, they had finished. Aelin blew on the paint across the backs of her paws and wrists to dry it faster. Suddenly, something occurred to her.

"Kalyn, what about my voice? I can't keep a consistent false voice, and it's just not low enough to sound male."

"You sure?"

"Hey, just because I did voice-acting for that friend's animation doesn't mean I sound like a guy. That character was an adolescent; he hadn't broken into his adult voice yet. And while I'm not a high-pitched person, I'm still not exactly…well, I dunno. I just can't sound like a male otter unless it happens to be a twelve-year-old male otter."

"Hm." Kalyn tapped a claw against her nose. "Well, perhaps you just shouldn't speak until you say that code phrase."

"Oh, that'll work." Sarcasm rang clearly through every letter. "And maybe she won't notice that I seem to be mysteriously mute."

"Just try it, it's our best bet. Now stand up and turn around; I want to see how you look."

Aelin did a slow spin. "Well, close enough?"

"You look like the real Taggerung," Kalyn assured the ottermaid. "Let's make you a sash, and that'll be the transporter."

The squirrel went back to the closet and began to dig through it again.

"I really don't know about this…"

"I spent all that time getting those paint designs right. You're not backing out now."

"Kalyn, I can't act! Not in voice, not in posture, not in thought! You're begging for the biggest disaster in the career of this show!"

"Quit whining and get that code phrase set." Kalyn thrust a bright blue sash into Aelin's paws. Defeated, the otter sighed, racked her mind for a phrase, and set it into the cloth. Working quickly, Kalyn whipped the fabric around Aelin's waist and tied it tight.

"Looser," Aelin warned. "Males have a different shape – pulling it that tight would look really strange on a guy."

"Oh, okay. There, done!"

Aelin spread her arms and peered down at herself. She supposed it would have to work…

"All set, _Tagg_?"

"I will knock you down and beat you with my rudder if you call me that again, _Kalyn Silv--_"

Kalyn's muzzle twitched into the beginnings of a snarl. The otter quickly shut up. Without another word, they both moved to the main door of their base, opened it up, and jumped out into the Otherpaths.

In seconds, the two landed in a scrubby bush in the middle of thick forest. Aelin dragged herself up and began picking leaves out of her shirt. Kalyn stayed low.

"Listen," she hissed hurriedly. Aelin stopped muttering to herself and cocked her ear up to hear better.

Not too far away, a sweet voice was calling, "_Tagg, oh Tagg! Where are you? Please come back, Tagg, I'm sorry! Please!"_

"It's perfect," Kalyn hissed again. "Go on, go on!"

Aelin picked her way out of the bush and looked about uncertainly. Fortunately, she didn't have to go anywhere at all – at that moment another otter – obviously female – pushed her way through the trees and froze there, staring at Aelin, who was suddenly extremely grateful for the dim light that made seeing difficult.

"Tagg?"

Aelin very seriously contemplated giving it all up as lost and running away – in fact, she half turned and took one step toward that goal when the Sue dashed forward and seized Aelin's wrist. Struggling with her fighting reflex, Aelin stopped in place, practically freezing.

"Please, I'm sorry! Tagg, I didn't mean it, really I didn't!"

Aelin had only one thought in her head. _What in bleeding blue blazes is going on here anyhow?_

"Tagg, please, say you'll forgive me."

Aelin forced herself to glance quickly back at the Sue clinging to her wrist. She was a young teenaged otter, more obviously feminine in build than herself and dressed in green tunic and cloak, with a sort of long sword strapped to her belt. Painted all over her face were twirling lines, more graceful and flowing than the rough jags that Kalyn had painted on Aelin's own face, and predominantly green, as were her wide, teary eyes.

Aelin turned her head away, not trusting her facial expressions much longer, and nodded, since it seemed the smart thing to do. The grip on her wrist vanished, only to be replaced – to her utter surprise and partial horror, with a tight hug around her shoulders.

Then she realized that the Sue, in the hug, had contact with the sash around Aelin's own waist.

"Activating code-phrase," Aelin muttered as fast as she was able without garbling the words. "All glory, all honor, victory is upon us!"

The Sue had just opened her mouth to ask what 'Tagg' was saying when the Otherpaths opened and dumped them both in the Sue's briefing room.

Kalyn rose from her place in the bush, disposable camera in paw and a huge grin on her face. "Well," she said to no one in particular, "I guess that means I'm briefing our other fighter."

With that, she vanished.

* * *

When the screen cleared, the projector vanished, and the arena's ceiling folded away, both hosts were up in their own box, waiting to continue the show. Or, rather, they had been; the moment everything mechanical had folded away a sudden yelp resounded from the box and Kalyn hurled herself out the side, scampering up the wall to the sloped roof over the host's box. Aelin leaned over the side, screaming something about a camera, but completely unable to follow the squirrel's agile path.

At the peak of the roof, Kalyn pulled a microphone from her belt, turned it on, and began speaking as though there was nothing unusual happening.

"Our Sue today is a Self-Insert. Originally Emily Johnson of someplace in the United States, she made herself into the long-lost sister of Taggerung and Mhera – an otter of uncommon beauty, intelligence, and skill in battle. Raised by a rebel group of former Juska tribe members as their own Taggerung, she was named Taggerunga Suprema Noctis Wildclaw, and by the time she was thirteen gained the title Beauteous Warrioress of the Juskadarke tribe. We'll just call her Runga, okay? 'Course, you all know how it goes from there: told to kill her brother, finds out it's her brother, refuses to kill her brother, angst etcetera."

The Sue gates (this time decorated with the same elegant green twirling designs as those across Runga's face) whirred open, allowing a very irate-looking, creamy-furred ottermaid to exit and stride to the center of the sandy arena.

"And our fighter is a virtual unknown. An Anonymous applicant gave us her character to fight – named Alida or 'Ali' Sharpeye, a female feral cat in teenage seasons."

The Slayer gates opened to allow an average sized grey tabby-striped wildcat out. She walked with a quiet form of confidence, wearing an overlarge, wide-sleeved tunic and carrying a bare falchion in her right paw.

"She asked us to invite Romsca, the ferret corsair, to her fight today, and so we did!"

Alida raised a paw to the invited character's box, smiling slightly. Romsca thrust a fist in the air in reply, feeling a little more keyed-up than before at the prospect of the coming entertainment.

The wildcat stopped near the center of the arena, facing her otter opponent and eyeing her for weaknesses. The otter glared back and laid her right paw on the hilt of her own sword. In an instant, she drew it, revealing a long, single-edged katana. The so-called 'Taggerunga' took an aggressive battle stance, turned to the side and sighting down her blade at Alida.

"A quick review of our only rule for the fighters: You cannot bring any outside help. Nobeast from the audience or from anyplace else. You have been warned…" The squirrel grinned into the microphone.

"Let the fight begin!" Kalyn reached behind her and gave their small bell a hard push.

_DONG!_

"EEEEEEEEEEYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

Before either fighter so much as moved, the earsplitting scream rang out from the vermin section, followed closely by the sight of Cluny the Scourge leaping bodily over other spectators in a mad rush for the exit, gibbering all the while about bells and ghosts.

For a few brief moments, silence reigned.

"O-kay," Kalyn said slowly. "NOW let the fight begin, then."

* * *

Runga feinted a jab with her katana, then dropped low and close, spinning with her rudder-like tail pointed out straight. Ali, despite having moved to block the feint, managed to skip over the sweep with the agility of…well, a wildcat. Leaping forward, she replied with a fast downward slash at the otter's exposed back. With unreal speed, Taggerunga spun her katana into an overhead block position, stopping the single-edged falchion inches from the top of her head.

Runga kept turning, dipping her katana as she went so Ali's sword slid along it down to the ground. The wildcat recovered her stance just in time to block a blow to the side.

"I don't know what the heck you jerks are doing, but this isn't right!"

Ali's blue eyes widened at the otter's speech. She blocked yet another strike, lunged forward with her falchion in a stab, and jumped backwards an instant later. She and the Sue faced each other from a good distance apart, neither one breathing hard just yet.

"Hang on…I thought Sues spoke differently than normal people," Ali said in confusion.

"What are you calling me?" Runga insisted. "I'm not a Sue! I'm a very well-developed character who happens to be related to a main character! I've got plenty of flaws!"

"Oh, yeah?" Ali began circling the otter, forcing the other to do the same. "Like what?"

"My singing's okay, but not super," Runga replied hesitantly. "And…um…"

"That's it? You can sing, but not in an over-the-top way? That's your flaw?"

"I've got more, I just can't think of them right now!"

"I can name you one."

The otter raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Ali gave a grin that showed off _all_ of her very sharp teeth. "Blindness: you can't tell some random female otter from your own '_brother'_."

Runga stopped circling and gaped, open mouthed, in inarticulate rage.

The grey cat suddenly moved.

_CLANG! CLANG! CLASH! CLANK!_

Runga's katana barely stopped each strike, and even then the otter fumbled the hilt a little on the last one, allowing Alida's falchion to nick her across the left shoulder.

"ACK!"

The Taggerunga's first reflex was to clap her right paw to the wound, having forgotten the fact that that particular paw was wrapped around the hilt of her katana. The wildcat used this distraction to dart forward and slash her falchion up and across Taggerunga's right side.

The otter stumbled back. Alida watched as she examined her wounds.

"Hm. Perhaps I should've used that garlic trick. The fight would probably be over right now if I had…"

"Wha-what's _garlic_ got to do with anything?"

Alida frowned. "You honestly can't be that clueless."

Runga only groaned and applied more pressure to her wounded side. Wary of any sort of tricks, Ali inched forward, her falchion in a ready guard position, but the otter only backed away, keeping distance between them wide and constant.

"Why am I here, anyhow?" Runga asked suddenly in an obvious stalling tactic. Ali rolled her eyes, but gave an answer despite herself.

"Basically for messing with the reality of Redwall canon. You're a Sue – Sues tend to destroy perfectly good stories just by existing."

"But I'm not a Sue! Please, I'm a _person_! I mean, I'm real, not a character – I'm from America!"

Alida stopped advancing. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean I found this computer…there was this character building form…And then I was here and in my own story, and it was a _good_ story anyhow! It was an _improvement_ on those books by that French guy."

"Hang on…_French?_ The Redwall books were written in England!"

"His name is Jacques, isn't it?" Oblivious, the Self-Insert pronounced the author's name 'Jza-kwey' rather than the proper 'Jakes.' Ali shook her head.

"So you can't pronounce the author's name, you don't know his nationality, and you think that the Mhera-bashing drivel you wrote about yourself in fur is an improvement on books published and praised by thousands? Hopeless, aren't you?"

"What's so great about that Mara otter anyhow?" Runga sniffed, still clutching her right side with her left paw, though she had managed to raise the katana into a rough ready position. "She's such a wimp."

"As the iron pot calls the bronze kettle black," Alida muttered to herself. She was then forced to raise the falchion in a quick block as the katana whipped downward toward her head.

The Self-insert was clumsy with her wound, however, and it was a matter of moments before Alida counterattacked, opening another gash in the otter's left leg. Unfortunately, the lunge forward and down that accompanied this movement opened the wildcat up to attack as well; in a moment, she felt a searing pain across the right side of her back.

Yowling in a mixture of surprise and fear, she stumbled away to see the gasping otter holding up her katana and looking at the blood on it in fascination.

"That was…easy."

The otter then shifted her gaze to Alida, and the wildcat noticed suddenly that her eyes had shifted from shining green to a horribly tacky red color.

"Oh –"

Ignoring the wounds that had distracted her horribly only moments before, the Self-Insert flew forward in Bloodwrath (despite the fact that it is rather exclusive to badgers in canon with the sole exception of a rare black squirrel), roaring a battle cry that sounded like a garbled version of 'Eulalia.'

A right slash that Ali barely dodged was followed in lighting succession by a left slash, a stab, downwards strike, upwards, diagonal, across the neck level, another upwards strike, another thrust…The wildcat was forced to call upon every ounce of her species' agility and reflexes to avoid or block the strikes, and even then some got through her guard to scratch through her grey fur to the surface of her skin, letting blood run out and clot up in the hairs around the wound.

Ali concentrated so hard on the sword, however, that Runga's next move caught her by complete surprise. In a moment, the otter spun and then vanished from sight; before Ali could register much more than the fact the Self-Insert had disappeared by dropping downwards, a heavy force caught the back of her footpaws. The world around her spun forward and down, and then the wildcat's back smacked full-force into the sand.

Dizzy, Ali didn't move for a couple of seconds, which was more than enough time for the otter to stand up again and place her katana in front of the wildcat's nose, forcing her to look cross-eyed at the blade.

"You lose. Where's your precious canon now?"

Thinking quickly, Ali shifted her gaze over Runga's shoulder and forced a look of satisfaction into her stiff features.

"Right behind you."

The otter's eyes widened and she spun about, lifting her katana to face a threat that was not really there. Ali, finding her falchion still firmly in her right paw, executed the fastest sit-up in the history of physical fitness and drove the sword right through the otter's back. The Sue stiffened, then fell over onto the sand. The body vanished in moments.

"Too gullible," Ali said, clambering slowly to her feet. Her back ached, and the various scratches all over her body stung; getting sand in a few of them hadn't helped any. She gave a few quick waves to the cheering audience, then started to make her way back to the Slayer gates, where a small medic team was waiting with hot water, salves, and bandages.

* * *

Once again, the roof overhead closed and the projector emerged to throw the one final advertisement up. Of course, nothing was stopping anybeast from leaving immediately after the fight, so only the curious stuck around for this one.

Cheerful music sounded out as the screen lit up in a bright yellow color and a clove of garlic appeared on it, followed by a chubby, old, widely smiling mousewife's face. Words in handwritten script appeared over the images, spelling out '_Aunty Sue's Garlic Pies'_ and then, in slightly smaller writing underneath, '_Good for what ails you'_.

Up on the roof of the hosts' box, Kalyn snorted a little. "Oh, funny," she said to herself, and then began to clamber down the shingles.

Halfway there, she stopped short.

Leaning a little ways out of the box, craning her long neck around to see her better, was Aelin. The narrow-eyed, all-teeth-showing-grin on the ottermaid's face was not heartening, nor was the way she was slapping the hilt of her lightsaber against her left paw in a slow, even rhythm.

"I hope you're comfy up there, Kalyn," the otter said, not stopping her lightsaber smack…smack…smack-ing for a moment. "Because it's going to be a _very_ long night."

* * *

**A/N: There we go! Episode five is done!**

**Thanks to Much Ado about Nonny for volunteering to take on our partner request – you'll be appearing next chapter, which will be up whenever I get it written. **

**We still have one open slot. If no one else wants to volunteer for it, I'll either make up a character or think of something else…perhaps have a small team of canon characters do him/her in or something.**

**As a side note, I recently learned something in psychology that I think really applies to some of us here. It's interesting. Seems that studies have shown that generally, females are more willing to kill and less apt to be sorry about it than males are.**

**Not true for everyone, of course, but I think it's true enough for certain fursonas here (coughArawolfcough).**


	7. Strong Stu

Contrary to the previous sunny days, this time the sky was particularly overcast – so much so that Aelin and Kalyn hauled out Anti-Sparklypoo spray as well as several Sue-power-detection devices just to make sure that the sudden aberration in the weather hadn't been caused by…unusual sources. It hadn't, so they simply double and triple-checked the weather forecast for precipitation and declared the fight clear to go.

All the same, so many untrusting spectators brought umbrellas that security was forced to allow them inside, despite their potential as weaponry. The hares did, however, thoroughly check every bumbershoot that went through for hidden blades and other nasties. They did find a dangerous-looking spike tucked away inside the handle of a somber grey umbrella carried by Lantur, who put up a bit of a fuss (including some fairly un-lady-like swear words and what amounted to a temper tantrum) when the hares confiscated it – spike, umbrella, and all – and told her she could collect it after the show finished.

(A week later, the recording of the incident would somehow move from the security system to MT (MossflowerTube) prompting the vixen's refusal to show her face in public for a good while after.)

In the stands themselves, the dividing wall still stood, though narrow doorways had been installed at intervals along it, along with open windows to allow movement between the sections and some conversation. The guests had grown rather used to the idea of separate seating, so it was the rare creature who crossed the wall and mingled with those on the other side.

The Invited Characters' box was much the same, though perhaps for slightly different reasons. On one side sat a young mousemaid, three squirrelmaids, a haremaid, and a chubby, older male squirrel. The latter was currently regaling the ladies with a tall tale in a thick highland brogue. On the other side of the wall, all alone, a vibrant-furred fox in clothing that could only be described as 'corsair' reclined, stroking the luxuriously bushy tail he had draped over one arm of his cushy seat. His gaze kept flickering to the other side of the box, in particular to one of the young squirrels. Clothed in a simple brown dress, she nevertheless had the look of a warrior about her – and he had a strong suspicion about her identity, both from what he overheard of the conversation there and from memories of that bratty princess ranting about escaped slaves who dared fight back…

Captain Plugg Firetail shifted a little in his seat. Best not to do anything that might provoke a fight, especially as his battleaxe was currently locked away outside the theater.

Suddenly, a cheer rose up from the crowd. All thoughts of his beloved axe washed away by the noise, Plugg peered out at the small figures on the sand below.

Finally.

* * *

"Hello, everybeast, and welcome back! I realize that it has been a while…"

Kalyn cut off the otter with a sudden screech – "IT'S NOT MY FAULT BLAME HER NOT ME" – as she whipped out her special pocketknife and transformed it into a large shield, which she immediately hunkered down behind. Aelin stared at her sister blankly, and then turned back to the laughing audience, having decided that ignoring the squirrel was the best way to deal with her at the moment. Delicately adjusting the white bandages that held a large ice pack to the side of her head, the otter winced slightly, then moved on.

"Yes, well…down to business, I suppose. To start with, I am very pleased to announce that in the interval between our last performance and this one, an anonymous benefactor gifted us with funds enough to finish paying for all the extensive repairs this stadium has undergone, which means we won't have to run advertisements anymore. More time for the fights, right?

"Also, I'd like to thank everybeast for the overwhelming response to the request for entries last time. We had so many applicants that a fellow Slayer actually pointed out a couple of new Sue subtypes to add to the list to deal with the overflow. For now, we'll just call these subtypes 'mystery opponents.' Applications for fighting are now closed, so please don't send in any more."

Aelin paused to glance quickly at Kalyn, who was still sheltered behind her shield.

"Well, I suppose that's enough of your time wasted. May as well get started now, so here's our capture of the Stu."

The stadium's collapsible roof unfolded and the lights dimmed as, once again, the overly-complicated bronze contraption and stone plinth rose from a trapdoor in the ground to throw memories onto the white screen.

* * *

"You think we're ready for this one?"

A brown otter looked up from buckling on a heavy leather utility belt, a small frown crossing her features.

"What do you mean, Kalyn? It's just another Stu – a little luck, a little creativity, and we'll have him down."

"I don't mean that." Flopped across a beanbag chair on the floor of their small personal Otherpaths office, Kalyn waved a vague paw in the air. "I mean, well, we've been away for so long, and so has everyone…everybeast, I guess…else. Kelaiah, Arawolf, Rector – it's like they vanished. And in the meantime, more original characters have cropped up around here than anything else. It's not a bad thing, necessarily, but, you know…"

"Mmmm. You mean, the more OC's we've been seeing, the more Mary Sues have also shown up."

"Exactly. If they've gotten more numerous, who's to say they haven't gotten stronger? And to be quite frank, Aelin, we're out of practice."

The otter was silent for a short span of seconds, then finished snapping her belt buckles into place and held a paw out to the grey squirrel sprawled below her. "Well, no better way to get back into practice, is there?"

Kalyn hesitated. "I'm just saying…Aelin, if something goes wrong, I don't care about the _alive and unharmed_ capture rule. If things look bad, I'm taking out the garlic."

Aelin stared at her sister blankly, then tried for a weak smile. "You're not usually this serious."

"Yeah, well…" The squirrel shrugged as best she could laying down, then accepted Aelin's paw. Once on her own two paws, she flicked her tail decisively. "Enough's enough, I guess. Just making sure you understand where I'm coming from before anything happens."

"Nothing's going to happen." Aelin trotted over to the door and laid a paw on the handle, waiting for Kalyn to stand beside her.

"Sound like famous last words to me."

The otter ignored her and turned the door handle, opening it to the dark-light whirl of the Otherpaths.

When the screen cleared again, the two were standing in thick forest. The healthy, full foliage blotted out most light, so when Kalyn pulled something from one of her belt pouches, Aelin didn't realize just what it was until she heard the squirrel whisper, "_Lumos,_" and a pale white light filled the area.

"Kalyn!"

"I feel safer this way," the squirrel protested, wand held high. "Besides, the only other light source we have are our sabers and maybe our communication screens."

Aelin pressed a pair of claws to her temples, rubbing them gently. "Fine. Just, fine."

Having achieved victory, Kalyn grinned and glanced around for the Stu. Nothing could be seen but trees, leaves, and impenetrable darkness beyond her spell's light. Glancing around once again, the squirrel spun on one paw and waved her tail uncertainly. "Soooo…where are we?"

"Somewhere in Mossflower wood, I think a little south and east of Redwall."

Kalyn waited for more, but all Aelin did was take out her own emergency wand and light it up as well. "Okay, and where's the Stu?"

"Somewhere in this general area. Really, Kalyn, that's all I know. My tracking equipment is my only indication of their location at any time, and so I have the Otherpaths take us to the sensor with the strongest current readouts."

"Sensor? Where?" Kalyn glanced quickly around for a flashing red light or a suspicious black box, but saw nothing. Aelin walked a couple paces to the left and tapped a tree lightly.

"Remember that one time, in the alternate Mossflower, when I trapped your tail to keep you from interfering with Kimber and Karen's story?"

"You mean you stuck it _inside the tree_?"

"Told you they were hard to check on. But pretty effective if you do it right, eh?"

Kalyn appeared to be torn between laughing and shaking her head. She eventually settled on a little of each, turning away from Aelin to check the perimeter of her light range again. "Guess we'd better split up to search, huh?"

Aelin paused, then hummed what may have been agreement. "Get out your communicator, and keep it on no matter what, okay?"

Kalyn pulled out a thin rectangular device, about the size of a small paperback with two curved handles on either side. Using one thumb, she awkwardly pressed a few buttons, and the screen lit up pale green. Kalyn tapped one more button, and a doubled-up ringing sound filled the air around them. Aelin quickly yanked out and thumbed on her own device to make the sounds stop.

"There we go." Aelin's words echoed strangely, bouncing from device to device and back again in a small, fast loop. "Here, let me do something on yours…"

Kalyn handed her communicator over. Clamping her wand in her teeth, Aelin accepted it in her other paw and, hopping around on one footpaw so she could balance Kalyn's device on her other knee, pressed a quick series of commands. A quiet beep sounded, and she handed the squirrel back the device.

Kalyn scanned the now blue-green screen for changes, and quickly found one: in the upper right corner there was a yellow arrow above the number _1.23_. She glanced in the direction of the arrow: it pointed at Aelin. Kalyn looked back down at the communicator and took one step away in experiment. The number changed to _2.30_.

"Direction and distance in yards," Aelin explained without being asked. "Just in case. But the communicators are linked to each other, not to us, so don't drop it, okay?"

"Right, then." Kalyn took a deep breath and turned away, trying to pay no attention to the way her screen-arrow spun with her to continue pointing at Aelin. "I go this way, you go the other?"

"Sure. But keep an eye on those numbers. Try not to go too much above thirty-five yards, which means we'll need to search parallel to each other."

"Well, see ya."

With that, the two moved off.

When Kalyn finally noticed the screen's number hit thirty-six and some odd yards, she turned right and began to walk along a new course. The numbers leaped suddenly to forty; the squirrel considered turning around, but then they decreased again to hover right around the correct number. Kalyn continued forward, glancing in the direction the arrow pointed now and then to catch a glimpse of white and green lights moving between trees.

"You doing all right, Kalyn?"

She jumped a little, glancing at the communicator again. Little ripples were moving across its teal surface as though Aelin's voice had been a rock disturbing calm water. "Yeah, I'm okay. Nothing yet. You?"

"Mmm-mmm. 'S funny. Usually we'd have found something by now."

"Yeah."

Kalyn continued walking, scanning the forest around her slowly, using the light of her wand to see as far as possible. The only sound filling her ears was the crunch-crunch-snap of her paws on old leaves and twigs. It was so quiet.

Kalyn stopped dead, suddenly thinking of every book she'd read in which something similar occurred, and the fact that a quiet forest was never a good thing in those books.

"Aelin!"

"What! Is it there? I'm com-"

"No, no, not that, stay there, I'm good. Just thought of something. Aelin, stop walking and _listen_."

The long pause that followed only served to remind Kalyn of the very, very bad things that happened in quiet forests. Fur all down her spine stood on end and her brush began to prickle outwards until it appeared twice its normal size. _Calm down calm down, we're okay so far, calm down…_

"I don't hear anything."

Aelin's voice made Kalyn jump and glance around quickly. Turning half her attention back to the screen, the suddenly jumpy squirrel dropped her voice to a low whisper. "Exactly, Aelin. No birds, no animals, for goodness sake, not even wind or insects! It's _too_ quiet."

"Kalyn, let's not read too much into this. It might have nothing to do with the Stu."

"But it might, too! Aelin, I don't like this."

"Calm down. Getting jumpy won't help anything. Just keep looking – we won't find him unless we search, okay?"

Kalyn took a few deep gulps of air. "Okay."

"Walk on, then."

Kalyn had only taken a few steps when her ears caught an odd sound from the communicator. Glancing at it, she saw a few faint ripples spreading from the center.

"Um, Aelin? That you?"

Silence answered, and now that Kalyn really thought about it, those sounds had been something like a thud and a grunt.

"Did you trip or something? Aelin, if you're okay, answer me now! Jokes like this aren't funny, you know!"

No reply. The numbers remained static except for tiny shiftings in the smallest decimal place. Abandoning all caution, Kalyn checked the direction again and took off running. Thirty yards, _something's seriously wrong_, twenty-five yards, _if this is a joke, I swear, I'll kill her_, twenty yards, _then I'll resurrect her and punch her in the nose and shake her until she swears never ever ever to do this again_, ten yards, _oh, something's wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong_, five yards, _green light – communicator! And…AELIN!_

Kalyn skidded to a halt, eyes wide. There, crumpled on the ground, was Aelin. Thinking quickly, Kalyn dropped her communicator and seized her pocketknife. Pressing the switch to bring out her thin, garlic-coated blade, she spun quickly – and the sword caught suddenly on the side of a vibrant-furred, muscular dog fox.

He gasped, dropping the heavy, ornately decorated battle axe he had hefted over his head. It hit the ground with a solid thunk as the Stu folded both arms over the spitting wound, growling deeply at the squirrel.

Kalyn stood frozen for a split second, then shrieked suddenly, launching forward with a vicious kick to the underside of the fox's chin. Head snapping back, he dropped to the forest floor. Kalyn pressed the tip of her sword between his eyes, forcing him to stay down.

What the Stu saw then, gazing upward, may very well have been the most frightening image of his life. Towering over him, face twisted in anger and features cast in harsh light and shadow by her spell-light, Kalyn could easily have made most creatures cry and wet themselves – and that's not even counting the fact that over half of the Stu's vision was taken up by the dangerous gleam of garlic-oiled steel.

Of course, this was a Stu, and a Strong!Stu at that, so he didn't even flinch.

"What did you do to her?"

The Stu blinked slowly. "The otter?" His voice remained perfectly calm. "Knocked out. I didn't need to kill her, after all. Same went for you – better alive than dead, you see."

"What? What do you mean, better alive than dead? "

A sly smile crossed the Stu's pointed features. He said nothing.

"You're up to something." Kalyn bared her teeth suddenly, pressing down on the sword. "Answer me!"

The tip of Kalyn's blade finally broke skin with a fizzling hiss. The Stu gave no indication of pain aside from a tightening around his eyes. His smile, now a full-blown, toothy grin, never faded.

"You know what? Fine. I don't need to play this little game."

Quick as a flash, Kalyn's wand was pointed at the Stu.

"_Stupefy!_"

The white glow of _Lumos_ vanished, making way for a red jet of light to shoot from the wand to the center of the Stu's chest. The fox immediately jolted, then went limp. His eyes closed and his features relaxed, but the vague shadow of a smile remained. Shaking, Kalyn re-lit her wand and rummaged in a belt pouch. Taking out a folded square of paper, she dropped it on the Stu's chest.

"Activating code phrase_: Shish-kabob_."

In a quick flash, the Stu's unconscious body vanished. Paying him no more mind, Kalyn hurried over to Aelin, then set to work, trying to simultaneously gather their fallen equipment and lift the otter to a more-or-less upright position.

"To'd you," she mumbled as she worked, teeth clamped shut around her lit wand as she spoke. "I did te' you so – what a mess. How'd de Oderpafs go again? Oh, yeah…"

Flicking a paw, Kalyn opened a way into the Otherpaths, then staggered through, half-dragging the limp otter along with her.

* * *

The picture died away, the screen rolled up, and the pensieve sank back to wherever it was stored when not in use. Up in the hosts' booth, Kalyn stood up with a microphone. Aelin remained seated, holding her ice pack steady against the side of her head with one paw.

"And now, it is with _great pleasure_ that I introduce the Stu to you all. Everybeast give a _warm_ welcome to Noctis Firefur Canis Sharpeyes, Strong!Stu."

On one side of the arena, a large pair of gates emblazoned with stylized flames around a double-bladed silver axe slid open. The fox Stu strode out with defiant confidence, easily ignoring the boos and jeers of the audience. Though clouds covered the sun, his fur shone a vibrant red-orange color, and the thick length of his tail made Captain Plugg glare in envy from the invitee's booth, clutching his own tail like a security blanket. Though not as comically over-built as Hircolus had been, this Stu had very well-defined muscles – if not for the anti-sparkly spray, most of the females in the audience (and possibly a few males) would have swooned at the sight of him.

Luckily, the anti-sparkly was in effect, and quite strongly, too, so all Noctis got as he planted his oversized, ruby-and-diamond-studded war axe in the sand was ever-louder boos and hisses.

"On the other side of the stadium, now," Kalyn half-shouted into her microphone in an attempt to quiet down the crowd, "Please welcome Nonny and Blazefur!"

The Sue Slayer gates slid open to admit two smaller figures – a female fieldmouse and a male squirrel. The mouse, Nonny, was dressed in a pale pink tunic and carried an equally pink staff, twisted at the top in an intricate pattern. Her appearance drew a few uncertain laughs from audience members, but the overall cheering and applause drowned them out. Blazefur was dressed a little more conservatively in a plain green tunic. A nondescript longsword was belted at his waist.

"Between the two of them, they invited a total of seven characters, all of whom were able to attend today. Thanks for coming to Mariel of Redwall, Wild Doogy Plumm, the Honorable Rosemary Woodsorrel, Trisscar Swordmaid, Abbess Songbreeze Swifteye, Fwirl, and Captain Plugg Firetail of the _Seascab_."

Nonny raised her staff in a half-salute, half-wave. Blazefur did the same with his paw. Happily, neither of them tripped while acknowledging their invitees, and they reached their destination just a few moments later. Facing Noctis, the two Slayers took fighting stances, Blazefur finally drawing his weapon, and they waited.

"Remember, no outside aid of any kind. Anything else goes." Kalyn reached back for the bell rope and gave it a tug.

_CLANG!_

"Let the fight begin!"

* * *

Unthinking, Blazefur rushed forward and swung his garlic-oiled sword from one side to the other. The Stu merely hefted his great axe upward, blocking the strike with ease. Blazefur stumbled a little, but Noctis made no move to counterstrike, instead waiting for and blocking the squirrel's next blow, and the next, and the next. By Blazefur's fourth attempt, the fox was outright grinning. Their weapons clashed once again, but before either could make another move, they were both bowled over by a wave of pinkish energy. A noise like a thunderclap sounded in their ears, leaving them dazed.

Nonny ran over to where Blazefur had landed and leaned over him.

"Are you all right?"

"I think a truck ran over me."

"Sorry."

"Wizard's staff?"

"Yeah."

Nonny helped Blazefur sit up. The squirrel groaned, clutching his head. His sword lay forgotten at his side.

"Can't you control that thing?"

"No, sorry. It's sort of…wide-range."

Blazefur moaned again and tucked his head between his knees, resisting the urge to try shaking the pain away.

"Come on, better get up," Nonny insisted, scooping up the hilt of Blazefur's sword and holding it out to him. "The Stu's already standing."

Sure enough, Noctis had risen from the sand soon after being knocked down. He showed no signs of dizziness, occupying himself by flipping his giant axe around in an elaborate series of twirls and spins. He noticed the two Slayers looking at him and flashed a cocky, sure grin. Nonny and Blazefur quickly turned their attention back to each other.

"Strategy this time?"

Blazefur gulped air, took his sword, and stood up shakily. "Yeah, sure. I hope you have an idea, though. I'm trying not to think too much right now."

"Okay…okay. I've got the ranged weapon here, though it's not too accurate. The garlic on your sword slows him down more, and it's more precise, but it's close-range and easy to block with that axe. How fast can you change directions?"

Blazefur just looked at her and flicked his bushy tail emphatically.

"I'll take that as 'fast'. Let's try this: I try and hit him with shockwaves at a distance. You stay close to me so they don't hit you as well. Once he's down, or his guard is dropped, you dart in and see if you can land a blow. If not, hop back out to me and I'll try again. Okay?"

"Sure. Start now?"

Nonny nodded. "Now."

With that, she raised her staff high and slammed the blunt end into the sand. A pink ripple roared out from the collision point, rushing over the ground toward Noctis faster than Blazefur could run – he had dropped several strides behind the energy wave when it reached the fox moments later.

Then, skidding to a sudden halt, Blazefur watched in horror as Noctis leaped clear over the pink attack, falling straight toward the squirrel. The Slayer barely managed to scramble out of the way before the huge, gem-studded axe slammed into the ground where he had just stood. Noctis quickly twisted the handle of his axe and scooped it upward, spraying sand into Blazefur's face. Crying out, the squirrel twisted on his footpaws and toppled to the ground, pawing frantically at his streaming eyes.

_WHOOSH!_

Unseen by either Noctis (who had been raising his axe for a finishing blow) or Blazefur (who still had sand in his eyes), Nonny had rushed forward, aimed her staff, and blasted Noctis at close range. The beam of energy was impossible to dodge and quite powerful – in mere moments, it had blown the Stu off his footpaws and into the reinforced concrete wall of the stadium. A spiderweb of cracks spread out from the impact point, and Noctis flopped bonelessly to the ground beneath them.

"I'm all right, I'm all right." Blazefur rubbed more grit from his eyes, tears streaming down either side of his muzzle to wash the sand away. "Just…give me another minute."

"Take as long as you need," Nonny offered. She remained standing beside the seated squirrel, her eyes on the feebly stirring Stu. He didn't _look_ like he would be going anywhere fast, but it paid to be careful.

"This isn't going so well, is it?" Blazefur stood up once more, brushing the sides of his muzzle. He bent down to retrieve his sword, shaking sand off of it as well.

"I don't know. I think I may have come close to a KO with that blast."

Noctis heaved himself to his footpaws, using the wall behind him for support. The fox lifted his weapon, then glared right at the Slayers, growling.

"Nevermind," Nonny amended. "It's not going so well."

Noctis charged.

"LOOK OUT!"

The pair separated, both dodging the Stu's initial downwards strike. Blazefur rolled to his footpaws quickly, readying his blade for another blow, but Noctis paid him little attention for once. Instead, the Stu turned toward Nonny, swinging hard across the side. She jumped back, shrieking. Planting her footpaws as well as she could on the sandy ground, the mousemaid gripped her staff hard and charged up another spell – before she could release it, however, Noctis stepped forward and brought his axe down hard.

_THUNK_

Nonny raised her staff over her head to ward off the blow, but the sheer force of the Stu's swing knocked her to the ground and broke her concentration on the spell. Nonny found half a moment to thank goodness that the magically-reinforced staff didn't splinter under the axe's blade. After that, all her attention was given over to trying to block another strike. Her paws were numb from the first blow, however, and her seated position didn't allow much weight to enter a block – the pink staff went spinning away, dancing across the sand.

Nonny braced herself to dodge the axe blade, but instead of attacking with his weapon, Noctis lashed out with a kick to her chest, spinning at the same time to counter a blow from Blazefur. Nonny went tumbling away, coming to rest near the center of the arena, staring up at the cloudy sky and gasping for breath.

Meanwhile, Blazefur had completely abandoned the notion of counterstriking and was coming close to giving up blocking as well, instead using every ounce of squirrelish agility he possessed to avoid Noctis' dangerously powerful swings. Even this agility wasn't enough, however, when Blazefur suddenly felt the back of his footpaw hit the arena wall. Eyes widening with realization, the squirrel attempted to dodge sideways.

Noctis took one paw off of his axe handle and punched Blazefur in the gut.

The Sue Slayer's sword hit the sand with a muffled thump. Noctis picked it up by the hilt, careful of the garlic-coated blade, and flung it away contemptuously. Looking down at the gasping squirrel, Noctis snorted and pressed the blunt top of his axe under Blazefur's chin. Then, the Stu spoke for the first time during their battle.

"Do you know, squirrel, why you and your friend aren't dead yet? Can you guess?"

Panting through his open mouth, Blazefur could only mutely shake his head. Noctis offered a sharp smile.

"No? Well, as much as I would love to tell you now, I'm afraid that information will have to wait. At this moment, I believe I have a victory to finalize."

Blazefur's breath caught in his throat. As Noctis withdrew the axe slightly, the squirrel stiffened in fear, though every sense he had screamed for him to duck, dodge, run away.

The fox smiled.

And then, he screamed.

Blazefur shrieked a shriek he would later deny ever shrieking. His momentary paralysis vanished, allowing him to drop to the ground and tuck up into a little ball, waiting for a giant, silvery axe to descend…

A muffled thump in front of him, coupled with Noctis' continued screaming and an oddly sharp, oddly familiar smell, made him lift his head to witness a bewildering sight.

Noctis lay on the sand, desperately clutching a foaming wound in his side. It was from this wound that the scent Blazefur now recognized as garlic rose. And, standing over the both of them, pink tunic askew and wizard's staff firmly in paw, was the most beautiful, welcome image Blazefur had ever seen.

Nonny sheathed the knife she had used and kicked Noctis solidly in the ribs. "Oh, knock it off already, you big sissy."

The fox choked back his screams and, after a few moments, blessed silence reigned. Blazefur scrambled back onto his footpaws, his paws feeling oddly empty and useless without the sword. However, his blade was a good distance away, so the squirrel settled for crossing his arms and trying to look intimidating.

"Now, Stu, we've got a few questions for you, and you're going to answer them on pain of pain."

Noctis glared up at Nonny, still clutching the spitting garlic-wound in his side. "Not likely."

The fieldmouse glared right back. "Perhaps I didn't make myself clear? Either we can do this the easy way…or the hard way."

Blazefur found himself hoping for the hard way, though he tried to push the inclination from his mind the moment it registered. _I am not a savage, I am not a sadist, torture is a very bad thing…_

"Do your worst!"

_He deserves it._

"Wrong answer!"

Before anybeast could even think, Nonny had hitched up her staff and swung it like a golf club at Noctis' temple. With a sickening crack, the fox went limp. Blazefur stared in astonishment.

"He…he's…you didn't…he's not…what about…"

"It's not dead," Nonny replied, her threatening demeanor smoothed out into something a little more businesslike. "Just unconscious. I think there may be something we Slayers need to know here…and if not, it could always be sealed away or something. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I need to go and rest a little. Thanks for the teamwork in the fight; I think we did well."

The fieldmouse smiled at him, turned, and walked away amid the fervent cheering of the audience. Blazefur stared after her, glanced at the supine Stu before him, then returned to staring after Nonny.

"Pink is scary," he finally decided, moving to collect his sword.

* * *

In the hosts' booth, long after the show had concluded and the spectators gone, an otter and a squirrel sat contemplating their options.

"I didn't like the feel of all this to start with, and I definitely don't like it now," Kalyn suddenly stated. Aelin turned in her seat to better face her Sue Slaying partner, a question on her face. Kalyn shook her head. "Some of the things that Stu said…he's planning something, and if I heard a few things right, he's not alone. I don't know if it's just that one or all of them or even what they're thinking, but it can't be good."

"I'll agree with that."

"So…making him talk?"

"Probably a good idea."

"Should we try calling Arawolf?"

"Mmm." Aelin nodded. "If we can. The others have been rather scarce lately, but their help would be appreciated. I think she might enjoy this particular job."

"Let's not do too much with conventional means, though. Strong Stus…they're pretty resistant to that sort of thing, aren't they?"

"Definitely. I'm personally thinking of forcing him to watch episodes of Barney, maybe even the Teletubbies for hours at a time."

Kalyn stared aghast at her sister. "Aelin!"

"What?"

"We need to get information out of him, not turn him into a gibbering wreck!"

"Okay. Half an hour at a time, then."

Kalyn shook her head again, and they lapsed back into silence. Aelin was the next to break it.

"Whatever it is that Stu is hiding, it'll be big. I just hope we'll be ready for it."


	8. Canon Stu

For once, the stadium was silent. Halls remained dark, the cameras and sound equipment shut off, and the front doors locked tight. The only living creatures in the area were clustered around a small table in a plain, concrete-and-steel room deep under the arena.

The mood in said room was about as cheerful as the walls were bright. Nobeast spoke; the only sounds were quiet, fidgety rustles and the steadily-growing annoyance of the crunch of potato chips.

The room's only door swung open and the occupants looked up in interest; one, a grey squirrel, actually stood in anticipation.

"Well?"

The otter sighed and closed the door behind herself and the mouse with her. "No good," she said. "He just _sits_ there with that…that smile of his, chuckling now and then but not saying much of anything."

"And we've pretty much exhausted our list of psychological persuasions," Rector added, trudging across the room to where Kelaiah and Jarrtail sat slumped around a half-empty bowl of chips. He swiped a small pawful and started to nibble on one. "Wish Arawolf was here. We might have to get physical next, and she'd be a great help in that case."

"This is turning into more of a headache than I want to deal with," Kalyn complained. Beside her, a small fieldmouse dressed in pink nodded.

"It sort of seems like a dead end."

"Yeah. I _had_ hoped to finish this up _before_ our next episode, but that's…not looking too likely." Aelin shook her head and flopped gracelessly into a plastic-and-metal chair. "I just don't feel safe conducting an episode while we have _that one_ imprisoned down here."

"Can we move him into another Otherpath pocket?" Kelaiah waved one paw in a half-hearted gesture, indicating the walls (or, more likely, the space far, far outside them that comprised the Otherpaths). "If we put a temporary seal on it, we can get him back out for more questioning afterwards."

"If keeping him here is a risk, then moving him back and forth is double that at least," Rector said, shaking his head.

"I agree," Kalyn said. "We probably shouldn't put him in the Otherpaths unless we're definitely ready to seal him away for good."

"Then our only option is to keep him here and hope for the best," Nonny said. "While you two are up top, the rest of us can keep a watch."

"It shouldn't be too much trouble," Jarrtail added. "There's enough anti-sparkly being filtered through that cell to choke a badger, so he'd be weakened even if he did manage to get out. Four Sue-slayers should be able to take care of him."

"You're willing to sit here on watch for a few hours? Really?"

The four in question nodded, and Aelin visibly sagged with relief. "Thanks, guys. That helps…a lot."

"Come on, then," Kalyn said, patting the otter on the shoulder. "Let's go get ready to take in another Sue."

"Stu."

"Whichever works." The squirrel opened the door, letting Aelin through first, then turned to those remaining in the room. "While we're gone, maybe play him some more teletubbies or something. It might help."

"Just leave it to us, and don't worry," Rector replied confidently. They exchanged quick grins all around, and then the door swung shut once again.

* * *

A scant three hours later, the arena was as lively as ever, packed to the brim with beasts of every shape, size, and origin. For the first time since opening night, the seats were completely filled – it seemed that word of the mysterious Stu had gotten out, and now creatures were curious about what might happen next. A few bands of vermin had made hefty bets concerning whether or not there would be a public questioning and/or execution before the show proper.

Those who had asserted there would be such a spectacle were to be sorely disappointed.

"All right, now, everybeast calm down!"

Amplified by her microphone, Kalyn's raised voice boomed out over the stadium, bringing the crowd's steady roar of conversation down to a scattered murmur.

"Right. Now, before we get to business as usual, we'd like to make something clear. It has to do with the Stu we took in today."

Aelin took over with a blunt statement. "It's a Canon Stu."

The implications of this took only a moment to sink in. As a whole, the audience began to shift and the murmuring rose a fraction.

"We feel the need to let you know ahead of time so that if you're uncomfortable seeing an imitation of a friend – albeit a cheap imitation – fight out here as the 'bad guy,' so to speak, you can leave."

Kalyn stepped forward slightly on their makeshift stage. "The Stu today is a copy of one Rakkety Tam MacBurl. Sir, if you are in the audience, we apologize for the lack of forewarning – this was sort of last-minute, as our original tag vanished a couple days ago."

Up in the invited characters box, one pudgy squirrel slumped back in his seat. The mouse beside him peered over in concern.

"Doogy, mate, y'gonna be all righ'?"

The squirrel visibly pulled himself together, passing one paw over the bridge of his nose. "Och, aye, Gonff. Jest a bit o' shock – but I know mah pal Tam's all braw an' snug up in the crowd – tis jest a wee Stu-vermin comin' oot here."

Gonff grinned and clapped Doogy on the shoulder. "There's the spirit, mate! Now, let's watch this copy get what's comin' to it!"

Confidence restored, the two invitees settled back to watch the show.

Meanwhile, Kalyn and Aelin had finished with the usual introductions and the pensieve-projector was rising on its plinth. The roof whirred shut, casting the entire arena in shadow. As quickly as darkness had fallen, it was dispersed by the light thrown from the projector onto the wall as the usual first part of the entertainment began.

* * *

In the usual room (which was something like a cross between office, kitchen, and living room), Aelin and Kalyn had just finished getting ready for their latest retrieval mission.

"Okay, we're going to have to be careful here," Aelin was saying as she glanced over the printout of the latest reports from their sensors. "We're after the fake Tam, but there's a minor Sue that needs to be taken out first."

"Mmmm? Who?" Kalyn casually checked her belt for her lightsaber.

"I'm not even going to try pronouncing her full name, though it starts with 'Sakura'. Daughter of Araltum and Idga, and therefore the princess of their little kingdom. She's a love-interest for the fake Tam."

"So isn't she the real problem here?"

Aelin shook her head. "Uh-uh. Next to Tam, her Sue-ness is minor. I just want you to be careful – she's supposed to be a little more…feisty than Sucrosia was, for instance."

Kalyn grinned and patted the garlic spray at her side. "Don't worry. I'm not getting a black eye from this."

"Right. I've got the transporter and the phrase set in it. You distract the lot by taking out Sakura, I'll see about Tam. And don't worry about collateral damage; just about everybeast else in the area is essentially a zombie. The whole place is a poor copy of Mossflower's reality."

"Okay." Kalyn took a breath and thrust her fist in the air with a whoop. "Let's go!"

Opening the door to the Otherpaths, the two leapt out, leaving the room empty.

They landed in a wooded area buzzing with activity. Kalyn barely managed to shove her sister out of view behind a low, thick, scrubby bush before any of the squirrels in the area noticed the remarkably out-of-place otter.

Hovering uncertainly beside the bush, Kalyn whispered out of the side of her mouth, "Couldn't you have landed us any closer?"

"Kalyn, I answered that before. And this place wasn't targeted at first, so I don't have many sensors here."

"Okay, fine." Kalyn glanced around. Thankfully, the panicking squirrels hadn't noticed her presence yet, but it was only a matter of time. She patted down the grey fur on her arms self-consciously. "How sneaky can you be?"

"Not very."

"Better learn quick, then."

Just then, cutting above the (oddly wordless) babble around them, a remarkably beautiful, remarkably angry, and just plain remarkably Sue-ish voice sounded out: "Well, if you hadn't locked up my Tammy, this wouldn't have happened! So it's your own fault, and he was right about you, you're just an old windbag!"

A deeper, oddly sputtering male voice answered, "But poppykins - !"

"No! I'm not speaking to you anymore, and you're a meany excuse for a Dad, and I wish my Tammy was here!"

The male voice went monotone. "No no, you are right as always and how do I have such a wise beautiful wonderful daughter and I should be nicer to you and I will release Rakety Tam Oakstrength Highlandking McBurl the Mightyest One immediately."

A squeal that reached previously-thought-impossible decibels followed. "Really? Oh, you're a wonderful Daddy and I love you forever and ever!"

The voices stopped then, and the confused, panicking babble of the crowd of squirrels nearby returned in full strength, almost as thought it had been set on mute for the duration of that short conversation. Kalyn and Aelin peered through the leaves at one another for a brief, bewildered moment.

"Poppykins…?"

"Mightyest One…?"

"Highlandking?"

"_Tammy_?"

They reached their conclusion at the same moment.

"Sakura."

Kalyn swiveled her ears in thought, then pointed at the base of a tall tree not too far away. "I think it came from over there, and up a little."

"Up? In the tree? I hope to gods they have stairs, because I do _not_ climb."

Kalyn gave her sister a quick Look. "They're squirrels. They don't need stairs."

They stared at each other again.

"Well, Sithspit," Aelin finally said. "I think there's a little hole in our plans. How are we going to get me up there?"

"Don't look at me," Kalyn said, crossing her arms and leaning against a nearby tree. "I can't carry you up. In fact, it'd probably take about five squirrels here to haul you up that thing, and I can't exactly ask…for…help…"

Kalyn trailed off, staring thoughtfully at the still-pointlessly-shifting crowd. She scratched briefly under one eye, grinned, and snapped her head around to meet Aelin's eyes.

"Play along," was all the warning she gave before diving into the bush and wrestling a very shocked otter out.

"INTRUDER," she shrieked at the top of her lungs. A few of the milling beasts nearby stopped to stare, wide-eyed. "INTRUDER! ENEMY! HELP!"

All at once, the crowd surged forward, their shouts covering the otter's protesting screams and threats.

"Take it to the King and Queen!" Kalyn suggested above the roars of the mass, and a few others took up the chant.

"To the King and Queen! To the King and Queen!"

Quick as a flash, the helplessly dazed Aelin was lifted up and carried across the forest floor and up the wide, tall tree. She snapped out of it about the same moment as the crowd came to a halt and dumped her on a wide mesh of tree limbs that served as the court floor. Two squirrels in what appeared to be light armor rushed forward to pin her to the bark. No longer paralyzed by shock, Aelin reacted instinctively, bucking and twisting. More guards ran across the tree to hold down her thrashing limbs and rudder. The otter craned her neck up, snarling.

Unfortunately, the view of several rather sharp teeth and nastily twisted face only seemed to invite a disheartening theory: "It's one of THEM! It's one of the ones that attacked us!"

Aelin thought a mildly nasty word, followed by the mantra, _I'm gonna kill her, I'm gonna kill her, that little squirrel is so dead!_

A flash of grey caught her sight. She turned her head slightly and saw Kalyn above her, looking down with a mixture of worry and amusement on her face. The otter pulled up one lip to flash a fang at her sister.

_You'd better worry_.

Kalyn mouthed something at her; it might have been "play along." Aelin wasn't going to play the silent communication game, however, because at that moment, a tall, wiry-muscled male squirrel in a kilt appeared at the edge of the platform. _Fake Tam_.

He gazed over the entire tableau without reacting, then strode forward to stand at the side of an equally tall, but far more feminine squirrel in a white dress.

"What is the problem here?" he asked, and Aelin wondered briefly if her first assumption was wrong: there was no hint of a highland accent in his voice. That thought quickly shattered, however, when the white-dress-squirrelmaid threw her arms around his broad shoulders and exclaimed, "Tammy!"

Both targets were in sight, but Aelin was still pinned down; she glanced back up at the tree limb where she had last seen Kalyn. The grey squirrel was nowhere to be seen. The otter quickly returned her gaze to the Sue couple and prayed that her sister wasn't about to do anything too rash. The last thing they needed was to muddle this up.

Well, more than they already _had_, at any rate.

The fat squirrel in front of her (King Alatrum, Aelin guessed) addressed Tam's question before Aelin could ponder further on her sister's disappearance. She turned her attention to his words instead.

"We – ahem – seem to have captured, er, one of the beasts that, hum, attacked us and stole our tapestry."

She hadn't read the book thoroughly in a while, but Aelin could swear that Alatrum didn't speak that way.

The Stu-Tam turned and ran a contemptuous eye over Aelin and the guards holding her down. She tried to ignore him.

"And why does it still have its weapons?"

Aelin felt the guard sitting on her back shift nervously. Her paws were starting to go numb. This wasn't good.

"Ah, er," the king stuttered, trying hard, it seemed, to get everything back under control. Nonetheless, Aelin noticed a thin sort of not-here-ness about him, as though the squirrelking were a puppet controlled from afar. "Disarm the beast, d'you hear!"

The twin swords across her back were removed first, scraping out of their sheaths and allowed to clatter to the wooden 'floor' inches from her nose. Aelin stared cross-eyed at the metal longingly. Garlic-oiled steel…all it would take was one swipe, and most of these beasts would be exploding in Sue-dust. Unfortunately, it seemed that the squirrels who took them held them only by the leather-wrapped hilts, so nobeast went –_poof_- through sheer carelessness.

Pity.

Then they found the knife in her belt.

Her swords had been plain and unremarkable, the only decoration a simple pattern engraved in the cross-guards. The knife, however, was chosen as bait and as the transporter for this mission, and as such was purposely far more ornate. Made of silver and encrusted with gems, it looked more like a decorative piece than an actual weapon.

Aelin and Kalyn had originally planned to drop it in an area where Stu-Tam was sure to find and claim it, relying on what seemed to be a natural tendency of Sues to gravitate toward sparkly items. That plan, it seemed, had been scrapped by the squirrel in favor of the current events, but now…

Aelin caught her breath and held it, waiting for Stu-Tam to notice and take the knife in paw.

"What is that?"

Aelin shivered a little in anticipation. _Come on, just take it…so close…so close…_

"Don't know, sir. Perhaps the beast stole it?"

"Here." Stu-Tam held out a paw. Aelin watched like a hawk. "Let me see it."

The soldier handed it over. Aelin started to mutter under her breath: "_Activating code—_"

"Ooooh, it's so pretty!" Sakura said over Tam's shoulder, reaching for the knife.

"—_phrase: Lac--!"_

And just like that, the blade was in the Sue's slender paws. Aelin growled deep in her throat. No good. It had to go back into Tam's paws before she could finish the activation.

"Sir! Sir, it was muttering something just now, sir!"

_Rhaich._

Tam approached and bent down in front of Aelin, picking up one of her swords and stabbing it into the branch in front of her. "Did you have something to say? Because I'm afraid we didn't quite catch that."

Aelin glanced around in panic, searching for inspiration…and she found it. Half-hidden in shadows, Kalyn caught her eye, then crossed hers, stuck out her tongue, and twirled a claw in circles around one temple. The otter flickered her gaze around some more before returning it to the false Tam, hoping both that the pause in her stare had gone unnoticed and that she understood Kalyn's meaning correctly.

Instead of focusing on Tam's chocolatey-Stu-brown-orbs-of-pooling-cocoa (or whatever Suthors wrote), Aelin stared at an imaginary spot at the center of his forehead. The close proximity had the effect of crossing and unfocusing her eyes somewhat. She allowed a lazy grin to cross her features and began to speak in a sing-song voice.

"_Cold be hand and heart and bone and cold be sleep under stone."_

Stu-Tam blinked, then reached out and seized the collar of Aelin's cloak, lifting it slightly. The otter raised her head, immediately noting the ache in the back of her neck at the odd angle she was forced to stretch into. Discomfort flicked across her face, and she fought to smooth it into what she hoped was a half-mad expression.

"_Ash nazg durbatuluk, ash nazg gimbatul…_" Aelin paused to cackle. Tam dropped her collar in something like disgust. The otter let her head flop back to the ground, then turned it slightly to look up at the squirrel with one widened eye. "_Ash nazg thrakatuluk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul!"_

"It's babbling nonsense," Tam reported. His observation was unnecessary; Aelin had been speaking plenty loud enough for most nearby to hear, and she was delighted to feel the guards holding her down shifting in unease. In fact, their holds were becoming rather lax, so it was only a matter of time until…

"Poor madbeast," Sakura simpered, stepping forward delicately. "So sad…how it must have no idea what's happening around it."

Something in the Sue's tone made Aelin's chest constrict and her eyes snap up to the squirrelmaid's face. It appeared innocent, pitying, but there was something like a smirk hovering around one corner of her mouth, something a little too knowing reflected in her deep green eyes.

"No idea at all," the Sue continued, and this time it was hard to mistake the tone of malice hidden under the sweet innocence of her words. "So helplessly misguided, to have thought that attacking us was a good thing. For you see, my good people, the form of this one is not quite that of a vermin, so it _must_ have been brainwashed against us."

The Sue paused, playing with the dagger in her paws, eyes wide and sparkling with fake tears, mouth drawn down in a pious expression. Aelin felt a narrow-eyed smirk would have better suited what she said next.

"Just like that poor squirrel helping it."

Stealth and trickery forgotten, Aelin jerked her head up and howled, "KALYN! NOW!"

The guards had, indeed, lightened their holds on Aelin. In a moment she had two paws and her rudder free, and was working on rolling over to dump the one on her back. His weight vanished suddenly, allowing the otter to lurch inelegantly into a paws-and-knees position. The reason for this sudden disappearance became apparent when a blur of grey and green and humming light launched itself over her head, yelling in glee.

Despite her worry, despite the still-incomplete mission, Aelin felt a grin stretch itself across her muzzle as she, too, armed herself and jumped into the fray.

* * *

Having seen Aelin safely liberated, Kalyn focused herself on one target: Sakura. The squirrel carved a wide path of Sue-dust explosions in her quest, cackling at a pitch well above that of her humming lightsaber.

Red and white flashed at the corner of her vision. Kalyn turned her head and grinned wider than before; there, not more than three running steps, a quick leap, and ten (with a little luck and extended reach, perhaps fourteen) quick minor-Sue-beast kills away was her target.

Sakura met her stare calmly at first, and then with a sardonic twist of her lips she raised one paw to point across the tree court. Kalyn flicked her gaze quickly along the Sue's pointing line, but saw nothing more remarkable than Aelin spinning and hacking her way through a small group of soldier-Stus. The grey squirrel returned her eyes to Sakura and executed a well-practiced twist of her face that raised one eyebrow well above the other.

_So?_ The expression asked. Kalyn hefted her lightsaber in one paw. _Aelin's not going to stop me from killing you._

Then the Sue raised the ornate (but still sharp) silver knife and wiggled it lightly between two claws, still smiling in that lightly mocking way. Kalyn's eyes widened and she surged forward.

Two steps, and Sakura had drawn her arm back, knife held steady and firm in her claws. Three minor-Stus appeared in front of Kalyn at the same instant, and she lost a moment of time stumbling to a stop to sweep her lightsaber through the lot of them.

That moment was a moment too long.

The knife left Sakura's paw and spun rapidly toward Aelin's undefended, almost-stationary back.

Kalyn didn't hesitate a moment. Mentally disregarding all Aelin's lectures about the Otherpaths and about drawing the smallest amounts possible from them in fights, the grey squirrel reached deep into that power, found what she was looking for, drew it into her body…

And in an instant, the Otherpaths had replicated the power of the Force and sent her hurtling through the air to slice through the knife in mid-spin.

Kalyn landed in a crouch at the other end of the natural platform. She stayed there for a few seconds, shivering and gasping as the enormity of what had just happened – and what might have happened – caught up with her. By the time she recovered, stood, and turned back toward the battle, the area was mostly cleared. In fact, the only Suebeasts left were False Tam and a small group of soldiers fighting Aelin in the center of the flat.

Sakura was nowhere to be seen.

Assuming that her sister had gotten to the Sue, Kalyn leaped forward and helped Aelin finish off the last few minions, disarm Tam, and force him to the floor of branches.

"Did you retrieve the transporter?" Aelin asked, keeping both eyes on the Stu pinned below her crossed swords. Kalyn's mind took a moment to register the question. When she realized just what she'd been asked, the squirrel flushed warm and scratched just behind one ear.

"Uhm…does it matter if it's in two pieces?"

Aelin spared a moment to glance, aghast, at her sister. "Ka-_lyn!_"

She had the grace to wince. "I…take it that's a yes, then."

"You have something disposable on you?"

"I have…a packet of month-old lembas, I guess." Kalyn reached into the belt-pouch attached to the Otherpaths and drew out a leaf-wrapped square of elvish biscuit. "Shall I-?"

"Mm-hmm. Hurry up."

Kalyn set the word quickly (_Lacrimosa)_, dropped the packet on the Stu's chest, and sent him away through the Otherpaths. Aelin lifted her swords, jerking the right one slightly to free it from the bark it had sunk into, and sheathed them across her back.

"Well, that's done. Ready to go back?"

With a quick _hssss-snap_, Kalyn deactivated her lightsaber and gestured vaguely at the air around them. "What, you _wanna_ stay here?"

Aelin shot her a level look. "No, but if that's what you want, I have no problem leaving you here when I seal the place off…"

"I'm going – scratch that, I'm _gone!_"

And true to her word, she was.

* * *

"Now, down to business – the part you all want to see!"

The projector sank out of view under the sandy arena floor, and both hosts were up in their box. The crowd let loose a collective cheer – they knew what was coming next.

"Please welcome our Slayer – Kris!"

The gates slid open and a brown-furred squirrel exited. Kris waved casually to the crowd, a bounce in his step as he walked out to the middle of the sandy field.

"With us today, at his invitation, are the famous Gonff the Mousethief and Wild Doogy Plumm. Thanks for coming, fellows!"

Kris grinned and clasped both paws above his head, giving them a quick shake. The cheering rose a margin more, then died down at last in anticipation of the next introduction.

"We've already sort of introduced our Stu," Kalyn continued, "but we might as well do it again for form's sake. So give your…best welcome to the Canon!Stu, one Rakkety Tam Oakstrength Highlandking McBurl the Mightyest One."

Boos and shrieks filled the stadium as the Stu, resplendent in a red and green kilt, fur shining copper in the light, strode confidently out. Popcorn flew through the air, but all of it bounced off of an invisible shield separating the stands from the arena itself, and the audience gave it up as a lost cause.

"Remember," Aelin said, "absolutely no outside help! Now that you two stand in the arena, it is down to the two of you _only_. That is our only rule. Thank you, and play nice!"

Kalyn reached for the bell rope.

"Begin!"

* * *

Kris drew his scimitar quickly and fell into a defensive stance, waiting for the Stu to do the same. Only a few pawsteps before him, Tam smirked and held his own paw out to the side. In a flash of light, the sword of Martin appeared.

Kris immediately straightened. "Oi, that's not _right_!"

"Isn't it?" Tam smiled eerily.

Sand shifted under footpaws, and in a flash the Stu had passed the distance between them. Kris barely caught the first blow on the flat of his scimitar, weight digging deep into the ground. Tam leaned over their crossed blades.

"Just who are you," he questioned, "to name what is right and what is wrong?"

With a mighty thrust, the Stu sent Kris tumbling tail over eartips across the sandy arena. Tam quickly followed to the fallen squirrel's side. Kris looked up and barely blocked a downward blow in time. Tam looked down on the Slayer in contempt.

"I can think of many who are more worthy of naming those things than _you_."

"Yeah, like yourself?"

Kris twisted on the ground, kicking out with both legs. Tam flew comically into the air, hanging spread-eagle for a split second before he also impacted the sand. The Slayer took his chance and scrambled upright, the Stu doing the same. They faced each other warily.

"No, not like myself," Tam said, surprising Kris. "There are others, even better than me…not to say that I am as bad a guy as you seem to think."

"Modesty from a Stu?" Kris began to circle. Tam imitated the motions. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Not modesty," Tam shot back. "Honesty. But enough of this. It's time I did what I was meant to."

"Yeah. Die!"

Almost as one, the two squirrels shot toward each other, and what ensued could only be clearly seen when the cameras played it back at half speed.

Tam swung Martin's sword at Kris, who ducked, rolled, and nearly took Tam down at the ankles. Tam was a Stu, though, and he saw the blow coming soon enough to leap up and tuck his footpaws safely out of the scimitar's path. He came down with a kick to Kris' side. The Slayer took the blow to the ribs with a grunt, rolling away just enough to lessen the impact, and jumped to his feet once again.

Just in time to block another sword strike.

Thinking quickly, Kris pressed forward, locking the swords between himself and Tam, and struck out with his left paw.

It connected solidly along the side of Tam's jawline.

The Stu's head snapped back and he stumbled slightly, opening enough space to slip his sword free. Kris followed up quickly with a hard kick to the abdomen and three fast slashes across chest level.

The first sword strike connected, opening up a thin line of red that steamed faintly at the edges. In spite of the garlic and the weakening pain it caused, Tam managed to block the last two blows and counterstrike.

Kris threw himself to the side, and Martin's sword cut deep into the sand. The brown squirrel caught his balance and attacked once again.

Tam's parries were half-hearted at best.

"Tired already?" Kris grinned, striking forward with the speed of lightning. Tam blocked just as quickly, but made no other move, whether to retreat or counterattack.

"No," the Stu replied, perfectly calm. Almost monotone, if Kris stopped to think about it…which he didn't, until a little later. At that moment, the Slayer was a little busy pressing his current advantage. "Not tired. Just…accepting."

"Accepting, huh?" Kris paused a moment in his attack, frustrated by his lack of success. Tam simply smiled, a little dreamily at the corners perhaps, and backtracked a few steps. With a bit of distance now between them, even if it was little more than a leap and a bound, both paused to adjust grips on their weapons and eye each other for new weaknesses. "Of what? Your defeat?"

Kris leaped forward with those words to clash against his foe once again. And once again, the pseudo-Tam simply blocked, still quick as light but without a certain conviction that had been present before. And then, the Stu opened his mouth, and the unthinkable slipped out.

"Yes."

Kris stumbled a little on the sand, his scimitar slipping from its intended target – Tam's upper chest – and nearly falling from his paws. The copper-gold squirrel's eyes glinted for a moment, then dimmed as a lazy expression spread across his face. Lifting Martin's sword higher, he flicked it casually in Kris' direction, opening a thin, shallow gash on the Slayer's left arm.

He hissed and slid backwards, tucking that arm close to his chest in reflex.

"You weren't expecting that response?" Tam's voice was mildly curious. Whatever fire there had been in him at the beginning of the fight had cooled to mere embers, and somehow the Stu was a more frightening opponent for it. "I could have taken your entire arm, instead of just that little scratch. Don't tell me I startled you that badly."

"Actually, I think I may have misheard you," Kris replied, easing his arm away from his torso and subtly twisting it to test its ability to move. Whatever he felt must have been encouraging, because he soon had replaced his left paw on the scimitar's hilt, just below his right. "You seem to have said that you've accepted being beaten."

"I did, actually." Tam smiled, a little more vacant and dreamy than before. Martin's sword dangled limply at his side. He stood heavily on the sand, lax and uncaring. "This is hard to believe?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, you're a Stu, right? Shouldn't you be certain you're going to win?"

"Winning such a tiny battle…is nothing to me. Not to say I'll make things easy for you, though."

Kris thought for a moment. "Well, this sucks. How'd I end up with the suicidal Stu, anyhow?"

"Give it your best guess. You won't come close."

"Wha-?"

Tam shook his head slightly, a smirk at the corners of his muzzle. His paw tightened slightly on the hilt of the legendary sword, and he glanced down at it as though he just remembered it was there. Blinking, the Stu lifted the sword into a half-there guard position, gazing blandly past it at Kris.

"Well?" the Stu said, "Are we to finish this, or will we simply talk through the rest of the day?"

"Bring it, Sparkles."

The Stu charged at Kris, swiping wide with Martin's sword; a wild, uncontrolled strike that Kris found simple enough to duck under, and which made it ludicrously easy for the Slayer to bring up his garlic-coated scimitar and cut deep into Tam's metallic-furred gut. Glittery golden blood sprang from the wound, accompanied by a sudden billow of black, acrid smoke. Tam jerked forward a couple more steps, then collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut.

Kris spun, ready for a trick, but nothing happened. Fake Tam lay crumpled on the ground, his body throwing off gold sparks and dark steam. As the Slayer, and the audience, watched, the Stu began to crumple and fold in on himself, turning black at the edges and collapsing into ash in the span of a few seconds.

Only when the last remnants of Fake Tam were lightly blowing over the sand did Kris relax his stance, look up, and allow the cheering of the audience to reach his ears. The squirrel sheathed his scimitar and strode out of the arena.

Despite their odd little…conversation, the Slayer felt the satisfaction of a mission well done.

* * *

A black-rimmed table stood alone in the center of a darkened room. Over its polished obsidian surface, a remarkably realistic holographic image hovered – that of a squirrel, slightly blurred in the middle of movement, mouth open, eyes wide with shock. Second by second, the image ticked with movement – the squirrel's mouth slowly closed, eyes narrowed and focused, the blur faded into something more detailed and concrete and then, in fewer ticks than it had taken to vanish, reappeared, wider and more violent than before. Second by jerky second, all details of the squirrel's features vanished to become nothing but a green and silver streak of color and light, hovering over and reflected in the strange tabletop. The blur stretched and rose in something like flight, passing high over several red-and-gold blurs below, ticking on and on and on in a neverending voyage…

Until, finally, the blur changed – a brighter green glow at its side began to swivel, streak in a circle, and, tick by tick, second by second, the image showed it approaching a tiny, silvery wheel that sometimes looked like a knife in midspin, tumbling slowly through thin air.

A few more seconds, a couple more ticks, and the neon green sliced through the silver wheel with a flash of red heat and yellow sparks. The wheel faltered, split in two, and fell slowly toward the ground as the large grey-green blur continued on, tumbling moment by moment until it also fell, landed, became more solid and distinct as it crouched, paused a long while, and then slowly stood up again.

The image froze at long last on the image of a grey-furred squirrel in a green tunic, a light-beamed weapon in paw and a slightly dazed expression in her half-lidded, blue-green eyes.

"Interesting."

The voice, soft yet strong, rang out in the darkness with a suddenness that might have been alarming…if her company were capable of alarm, that is.

"Such power," she continued. A shadow detatched itself from a corner and approached the table, leaning on its edge casually. "And you are quite certain…?"

"Positive," her companion replied. Unlike the owner of the first voice, who, even leaning over the hologram, was cloaked in shadows, this one was perfectly visible, the white of her dress picking up all the light it could and throwing it back and up against her porcelain skin and river-of-fiery-lava hair. "The feel of her was quite different…of both of them, really. They aren't like us…there is no strength inside them."

The shadow-voice hummed and detached herself from the table. Pacing into the shadows and out again, she was barely visible at the best of times. The second seemed unperturbed by this, deftly twirling a strand of hair like flame around one slender finger as she waited.

Her patience was soon rewarded.

"If this power is not drawn from within, as ours is," the shadow mused, "then we need to know the external source. We must know just what feeds them in this way, what allows them to surpass their natural strengths – what lets them fight us as equals. Their garlic sprays and petty tricks cannot account for half of it, and certainly not what we have recently witnessed."

"You wish for me to investigate?"

The shadow paused in her pacing. Slowly she turned and shook her hooded head.

"No. You have done well, but this is something that may wait, and something that may be done by another. In fact, our answer to this puzzle may already exist in things already said and done, and need only be searched out now. No. I wish for you to rest a while, and then I shall have another job for you."

"As you wish."

"Hmm. Go, now. Take a break. Enjoy yourself."

"I will." The red-haired girl bowed elegantly. "Thank you, my Lady."

She turned smartly and opened a door so well-set into the wall, it was practically invisible. Light from outside flooded the room for a moment, and then all was plunged into darkness again.

The shadow Lady, alone, turned slightly to regard the frozen image hovering above the hologram table.

"No, Sakura," she said to the air. "I thank _you_."


	9. Guilty Sue

The stands emptied, crowds drifting off to their lives (and deaths, as the case may be) outside. The buzz of high emotion from Kris' victory over the fake Tam began to fade as the afternoon waned, and soon the only visible motion in the area came from a few of the Sue Slayers (and a very helpful volunteer group of mice, moles, and hedgehogs) in the stands, sweeping up empty cups and cardboard popcorn boxes and hauling full trash bags away to be incinerated. The clean-up crew worked quickly, and by the time the sun had dropped to touch the far edge of the horizon, they had finished the stands and were dragging a large wooden level across the churned-up sand of the arena. Pawprints, scuff marks, miniature dunes and dips in the surface – all vanished as the chattering, laughing crew passed by.

They had done this after every episode, and though there had not been many, it was still the sort of task that passed by without need for much thought. The flat, wide parting in the sand where a body had been thrown received no more attention than the narrow ravine where a weapon barely missed its target.

And so the place where the Stu-copy of Martin's famous sword had bitten deep into the ground in a downwards blow was passed over, scraped shut, and nobeast thought a thing of it.

Under the new coating of sand, however, a tiny golden pod, hardly over an inch long, suddenly shivered and cracked open. A green light emerged, the metal shifted, and soon the thing resembled a small beetle. It shifted around in its little pocket of air, brilliant green 'eyes' illuminating individual grains of sand.

Abruptly, the mechanical insect froze, whirled sharply and dove into the earth beneath it.

And all was silent.

* * *

It was foggy.

His sight was dimmed; once, he could count the number of eyelashes on a person standing a full city block away. Now he could barely make out the hairline ridges in the otherwise-smooth concrete wall before him. His hearing, which could once catch the wingbeat of a butterfly on a still summer day, now hardly perceived indistinct murmurs outside the drab grey door. Smell, taste, touch, everything felt like it was swathed in cotton balls, numbed, somehow _less_ than it had been.

It felt…normal.

How could they _stand_ being so normal?

The door opened with a clack of a lock that even he could still make out, and a female pine marten strode in with a manila folder tucked under one arm and a kind, easy smile gracing her face. Noctis might have stood to greet her (she looked so friendly, and it was only polite…) if not for the fact that the cuffs around his wrists were bolted to the metal table before him.

"Good morning," the pine marten said with a hint of cheer in her voice, daintily adjusting the delicate silver eyeglasses perched on her nose. She approached the long table and placed the folder at the far end of it. "How are you today?"

"I have been better," Noctis admitted. "Yourself?"

"Fine, fine," she replied, sitting down and flipping the folder open, always with the same easy, carefree manner with which she had entered. "Now, down to business. I think you already have guessed that I'm with the ones who have been questioning you, right?"

Noctis nodded. Internally he wondered if he might be able to persuade her to help him, even join him as a minor Sue. She seemed nice enough so far, perhaps even a little air-headed. Briefly, his mind flashed to what he had been told of a female Sue slayer, a pine marten with the heart and soul of a devil, but the image in his head was so contrary to what he saw before him now that he dismissed it. He had already seen that their information on all the Slayers was incomplete, that there were many who worked behind the scenes in that organization and many more who had just joined. It was very probable that this was a different pine marten, one who didn't charge up front in the fighting – his experienced eye had seen no weapons on her.

Arawolf Beechclaw, he was sure, would go _nowhere_ without a weapon, let alone into an interrogation room with a Stu present.

"Well, then, since we're on the same page, I'll ask you nicely: Will you, Noctis, be _so kind_ as to let us know _what_ you were bla— er, talking about upon your capture?"

"I'm sorry," Noctis said, apology thick both in his voice and in the small smile he sent across the table. He spread his paws as far as he was able, turning them up in a helpless gesture. "But I'm afraid I cannot."

"If you cannot, I'm afraid I will have to insist." The pine marten's smile quirked up at the corner, a twitch that Noctis might have found alarming if he were paying attention to it. "Try again, why don't you?"

"I told you, I cannot. I remain loyal to my people." He leaned forward slightly, driving his gaze into the marten's eyes. "They have greater worth than anything in all the worlds to me. We trust one another, need one another. I am wasting away here. Please," and here he widened his eyes, allowing liquid to gather at their corners. "Please, let me go home. I want nothing more than that – you can even come with me, see for yourself just why I need this so."

The pine marten's face dropped into something stonily blank and Noctis felt a momentary thrill of panic. What sweet young female could possibly resist the puppy face? Had his powers fallen so far?

Across the table, the marten twitched minutely, then abruptly stood and turned to face the wall. Her tense shoulders trembled and she raised a hand to her face. Noctis felt his hopes rise. Perhaps his attempt hadn't failed. Perhaps, even now, the sweet maid was wrestling with her desire to aid him and her blind faith in the way of the Slayers…

"So, let me get this straight," she finally said. Her voice would have been flat if not for the thin stream of amusement bubbling underneath its surface. "You. Want me. To spring you outta here?"

If not for the Anti-sparkly all around him, Noctis may have been able to come up with a clever answer, to salvage the situation that seemed to be falling over his ears. As it was, however, all he could think to say was, "Er…"

"You know, I think I'm being rude. I've not introduced myself." The pine marten whirled around, an almost-manic grin stretching back along her muzzle, which was now free of glasses and suddenly far less genteel for it. The demure maid had vanished and been replaced by a monster. She leaned on the edge of the table, shoulders hunching up along the sides of her neck like black wings rising at her sides. The silvery eyeglasses clenched in one paw snapped abruptly in half. Noctis leaned back involuntarily. "My name is Arawolf. Arawolf Beechclaw. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

Strong Stu or not, Noctis could swear he felt his gut freeze over.

The Slayer grinned wider.

_They say she can smell Sue-fear_…

No! He was a Strong Stu! He could handle this. This was nothing – piece of cake, little more would happen than being forced to watch those stupid kiddy videos the Slayers seemed to fear so much.

Noctis smoothed away any panic he felt, fixing a blank stare on the terror across from him.

Rumors were very rarely true, after all.

"Perhaps I have," he replied, and was proud to realize that his voice was perfectly level.

"Hmm." The demon stood up straight and crossed her arms. "Then perhaps you'll also know that, if I want an answer, you'd bloody well better give me one?"

"Or what?"

"Or I'll make your life _hell on earth_."

Empty threat. Hot air.

"Try it."

"Very well." Arawolf drew her shoulders back and clapped her paws together. Her accent changed to some bizarre lit Noctis could not place. "Bring in the COMFY CHAIR! And the SOFT PILLOWS!"

Was that all? Noctis began to laugh. In fact, he was so busy doing so that he missed the toothy grin spreading over the pine marten's face and the cart she wheeled out from underneath the long table until it was far, far too late.

"Just kidding," the demon said, raising a scalpel and something like a pair of needle-nose pliers. "You want the hard way? I'll give you the hard way, buddy."

In short order, the laughter turned into terrified screaming.

* * *

Kalyn cocked an ear toward the door.

"You hear that?"

"Yep," Kenzie said, looking up from her attempts at hand-sharpening a knife. She hadn't lost any fingers yet, but both paws were now swathed in gauze and only one edge of the blade was anything near sharp. "Do you think it'll work?"

"Only if she doesn't rip him completely apart before getting answers," Aelin put in.

"I think she'll be okay," Kelaiah said, sedately spinning in the room's only swivel chair. "I convinced her to take it slow at first – you know, instead of gutting him right off, she should pull out all the little hairs in his tail one at a time, that sort of thing."

Kalyn whimpered in sympathy and clutched her own brush close.

"Plus," Kelaiah added, spinning a little more aggressively now, "I set a timer on her. She's got half an hour with him this time, and then she needs to stop and report to us. It's already been ten minutes."

"Ara _agreed_ to all this?" Rector said in amazement.

"Er, yeah, about that…somehow, between today and tomorrow, I gotta come up with about three pounds of chocolate." The skinny ferret pounded a footpaw hard against the floor and tucked himself up in the chair, becoming little more than a green-brown-grey blur.

"Well, good luck to you, Kel. You brought it upon yourself," Nonny said, seated at the grey metal table in an incongruous splash of pink.

A few moments later the swivel chair slowed to a stop to reveal a raggedly breathing ferret draped over the plastic arms, tail dragging on the floor and eyes squeezed tight. From the little whimpers and the rigid stillness with which he held his head and neck, Kelaiah was highly dizzy and very uncomfortable for it.

"You brought that upon yourself, too," Rector commented sedately, hardly glancing up from the novel he was reading.

Kelaiah hiccupped and clapped a paw to his mouth. Kenzie stared in alarm before scooting as far away as she could possibly get in the relatively small room.

"If you…I mean, I am _not_ cleaning up…you'd better not…"

"Stop, don't make him think about it!"

Kelaiah hiccupped again and Kalyn dove for the wastebin, sliding it under his muzzle and stumbling away from both ferret and trashcan with desperate speed.

Luckily, her efforts weren't needed; after a few seconds of breathing deeply through his nose, Kelaiah was able to sit up and open his eyes again.

"Never…going that fast…again…"

"Please don't," Aelin agreed, standing by the door with her arms crossed and tail waving nervously. "That was…nerve-wracking. For all of us."

Kel grunted something that might have been agreement, pushing the wastebin away with his footpaw.

"So," Nonny said, absently toying with her now-almost-trademark pink wizard's staff, "New episode today?"

"Yeah," Kalyn said, grinning at the mouse. "We've already captured the Sue. This one'll be _fun_ to see."

"It'll be bloody difficult, you mean," Aelin said. "I pity poor Milfoil."

"That bad?" Kenzie asked.

Aelin nodded.

"So what is it, then?" said Rector, closing his book around one finger.

"You'll see," Kalyn replied.

"We _can_ say that it's a Guilty!Sue."

"Pfft, that's it?" Kenzie scoffed, swiping the whetstone against the knife once again before examining the edge. Either it was to her liking, or she just gave up on it, because she tossed both stone and weapon on the table with a loud clatter.

"Guilty!Sues are pathetic," she continued, "'cause all they do is sit there and cry over everything."

"Not this one," Aelin replied, "She angsts over stuff, but that doesn't stop her from fighting or anything."

"It's like she does it just to have more to be guilty over later," Kalyn said, "plus, once we gave her the briefing, she got really, _really_ eager to battle."

Nonny made a face. "The proactive sort, huh?"

"Mm-hm."

Silence fell. Rector returned to his book, Nonny pulled out a small can of polish and a rag and set to work on her weapon, and Kelaiah started to toy with his laser in search of more useful functions – the thing had so many menus within menus that he still didn't know half of what it was capable of. Kalyn and Aelin retreated to a corner to quietly discuss stories they had a mind to write in the real world when they had the time, and Kenzie was rubbing a fresh coat of garlic oil into her fencing saber.

Presently, Kelaiah checked his watch and frowned.

"It's five minutes over the half-hour. I think someone'd better go get Arawolf now."

Glances were exchanged.

"One, two, three," Kalyn sounded off.

"NOT ME!"

Rector, Kelaiah, and Kenzie blinked in confusion.

"Er…not me, either," Rector said.

"Not me!" Kelaiah and Kenzie quickly added.

"Kel was last," Kalyn said.

"Was not!"

"Oh, yes, you were!"

"You can't make me!"

"She's your partner, Kelaiah," Aelin pointed out.

"Yeah, and that's why I'm not going in there. I _know _her, and she _scares_ me. It was hard enough setting a timer – I'm not gonna remind her, let alone enter what's gotta be a torture chamber by now!"

"Chi-_cken_!" Kalyn clucked mockingly, "Chick-chick-chick-chick-chick-_en!_"

"Oh, shut up!"

"Stop fighting, and go get her out of there already," Kenzie demanded.

"You send me to my death or worse, I hope you know," Kelaiah protested.

Nonny set her staff across the table and began rooting through the bag hanging over the back of her chair.

"Here," she said, finding whatever she was looking for, "take this."

She threw something small, and Kelaiah caught it with a loud crackling sound. He opened his paw to see a '_fun-sized_' chocolate bar. The ferret looked up at Nonny and raised an eyebrow.

"Emergency candy," she said. "I'll share if it means she spares your life."

"Yeah, because a single mouthful of chocolate will be enough to placate her," Kelaiah said sarcastically. "Why don't you just send me in with '_please hurt me_' hung around my neck in big red letters?"

"If you don't want it, give it back."

"No!" Kelaiah clutched the chocolate close to his chest. "I'll take it, I'll take it!"

"Well, then?" Rector tried not to grin. Losing the battle, he opened his book and ducked behind it. "Go on."

"Chop, chop!" Kalyn clapped her paws twice, turning her snout up in a mock-snooty manner.

Kelaiah groaned.

"You guys hate me, and it's mutual," he said, and trudged toward the door. Upon opening it and stepping halfway through, he turned to regard those remaining inside mournfully. Then, with a deep sigh, he disappeared into the drab hallway, the metal door swinging shut behind him.

Aelin stood up and stretched.

"Well," she said, "It's about time we got started. We've got about ten minutes 'till the show starts. Let's get moving."

"I'll stay here again," Rector volunteered. "Just promise to get a recording of everything for later, all right?"

"Will do," Kalyn said, also standing and following her sister to the door.

"If you need a book or something," Aelin put in one last statement before exiting, "there's a whole case-full in the office area. You know where it is. Just make sure we get it back, okay?"

Kenzie gave them a thumbs-up.

Then the door closed once again.

* * *

Kelaiah stared at the grey door before him, fidgeting uncertainly with his paws hooked on his belt. The yellow light above him flickered slightly – it probably needed a new bulb, he thought, trying to distract himself from imagining what he might see when he opened the door.

It didn't work very well, and he shuddered as he recalled one horribly brutal incident when he had stumbled upon Arawolf covered in blood and sitting serenely in the middle of the torn and scattered remains of a Sue she had tracked down by herself.

Leaving her alone with a Stu, for half an hour, with instructions to extract information…

Now that he thought on it, he couldn't imagine a worse idea.

He tightened his paws on his belt, and the crackle of a candy wrapper in his right reminded him of his mission. Kelaiah took a deep breath, stepped forward, and rapped his knuckles smartly against the metal.

Three knocks.

Only silence answered.

Come to think on it, the room had been oddly silent for a while now. Not one shout, scream, or murmur had reached his ears through that door, and soundproofing could only account so far for it – when Arawolf had first started, they had been able to hear the evidence of it through two closed doors and down a short expanse of hallway.

Steeling himself, Kelaiah laid one paw on the handle and began to slowly open the door.

He peered inside, and it was dark.

The ferret tucked the candy away in a pouch, pulled out his laser, and began to fumble for the light switch just inside the door.

"It's empty."

Kelaiah jumped a full three feet in the air, screamed, and whirled around, pressing the screen on his laser at random.

A burst of yellow flower petals flew into existence, whirling about and settling on the floor like oddly-colored, over-sized snowflakes.

As the petals fell and the air cleared, Kelaiah got his first clear view of the beast who had snuck up on him: a dark figure, clothed in black, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, arms folded across her chest, tail hanging limp behind her legs, with a mask of light fur framing her dark brown eyes.

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Yeesh, Ara, don't scare me like that!" Kelaiah clutched the fabric of his tunic just over his heart. "I'm too _young _to die of a heart attack!"

"Eh, sorry," Ara said, though she didn't sound it. She straightened up from the wall and stepped forward to prod the flower petals coating the floor with her footpaw. "Nice greeting. What are these from, lilies?"

"No idea," Kelaiah said. "You'd havta ask Rector. He programmed this thing."

"Hm. The lily is a death-flower." Ara grinned abruptly. "I like. Perhaps we should send some to Mr. _I Shall Never Talk_ down there."

"You didn't -!"

"Relax. He's alive. The timer went off, so I chucked him back in his cell and cleaned up a bit. You can barely see the bloodstains now. Do I smell chocolate?"

Wordlessly, Kelaiah tugged the slightly-smashed candy from his belt pouch and handed it over. Arawolf tore the wrapper from the offering and inspected it with a critical eye.

"Pathetic," she said, then scoffed it down anyway. "The other two-point-nine-nine-lotsa-nines pounds had better be more serious."

Kelaiah winced at the reminder and began to consider just where he could get that much chocolate candy cheaply.

Ara started walking down the hall, licking excess chocolate from her claws as she went.

"Well, hate to run off now, but I gotta find a room and write down exactly what he said. I tape-recorded the session, you know, so I wouldn't have to stop halfway through to do that. Later!"

The dark pine marten waved over her shoulder as she went, leaving Kelaiah to find a broom and clean up the mess of flower petals on his own.

* * *

It had delved deep.

The sand was merely a loose covering over a harder clay-like dirt, but it dug through both as a sharp knife slices thin paper: swiftly, surely.

Even the concrete wall could not slow it; it merely shifted its metal body into something like a drill bit and, spinning rapidly, bore directly through the material to the thin space inside.

Now, it was somewhere between two layers of the stuff, clambering over and around long wires. Occasionally, the sharp end of a metal foot would slip through the protective coating and touch the copper beneath, but these nips of energy only drove it onward, gave it power.

A pair of antennae swung and twitched atop its golden head, and the green light set there illuminated the way ahead of it.

Not much further…

The beetle-like contraption caught a foot on yet another wire, and sparks winked brilliantly into existence, their light magnified by its golden body. The electric surge made the green glow shine brighter, the antennae twitch faster.

Not much further.

* * *

Up in the stands, the dividing wall had finally been removed, and everybeast was allowed to mingle freely for the first time in a long time. Regardless, very few actually crossed those subconscious borders between them, with rare exceptions. One of these exceptions was especially surprising – in the lowest row of bleachers, near the center of the arena seating, three young beasts were crowded together around an extra-large bucket of popcorn.

In the center of the trio, holding the bucket, was a red-furred squirrelmaid wearing a brown dress, with a lively spark in her eye. On her left sat a well-groomed weasel wearing yellow, and on her right a ferret with six claws on his left paw, which was dyed permanently red. The three of them laughed and joked, trading scathing remarks that weren't meant in any seriousness, and jostling each other with mock-punches and elbows. The beasts around them, overall a strange mix of traditional vermin and good-beasts, merely rolled their eyes or chuckled indulgently whenever the strange trio caught their attention.

Let children be children, was the general thought. They will learn soon enough.

But whatever the future may hold for them in the Dark Forest, and whatever their pasts had been, somehow, inexplicably, Triss, Klitch, and Veil had become something like friends.

* * *

"Welcome to another episode of the Mossflower Mary-Sue Showdown!"

The grey squirrel on stage bowed as the audience roared, and the otter beside her rolled her eyes at the display.

"Thank you, thank you," Kalyn said happily, the microphone in her paws catching her voice and magnifying it so it boomed through the arena. Gradually, the audience quieted, almost in anticipation.

"Boy, you lot really know the drill by now, don't you?"

Soft laughter rippled through the audience, but that, too, soon quieted down. Kalyn handed the microphone to her sister.

"Okay, down to business. We don't have any new announcements today, so let's just pop up the pensieve-projector and get on with the show, all right?"

The aforementioned contraption, a too-complicated mass of brassy gears, poles, and mirrors atop a stone plinth, appeared from its storage compartment beneath the arena floor. The convertible roof over the arena closed, sinking the stadium into near-darkness, and the projector flickered to life, throwing its images up onto the wall, just as usual.

The white screen flickered once, twice, off and on.

Then it died.

Immediately, noise rose among the audience, whisperings of wonder and conjecture.

Kalyn, halfway from the arena stage to the door that led up to the hosts booth, scowled. She turned around, marched over to the plinth, and gave it a kick.

With a shudder and a whir, the projector sprung back into life.

"Stupid thing," the squirrel muttered, and she turned to rejoin Aelin.

This time, the projector worked without problem.

* * *

It was a dark and stormy night.

…No kidding.

"Good thing this one's a girl," Kalyn shouted over the storm, "'cause I'm gettin' serious flashbacks to that black-furred freak of a Stu here!"

"Save it and search," Aelin countered, sweeping her lit wand in wide arcs before her.

Both squirrel and otter were soaked through, the thick forest they searched affording no shelter from the torrential rain. The darkness and curtains of water further complicated matters; neither one could see much beyond the little spheres of light cast by the Harry-Potter-fandom wands they had brought, and said light almost seemed limited by the rain itself.

Kalyn cast a quick, sad glance over her shoulder at her drenched tail.

"I hate this," she complained loudly.

"It's…not that bad," Aelin replied, though her voice sounded doubtful. It was pretty obvious that the otter didn't believe her own words.

"Yeah, right," Kalyn scoffed. "I hope that thing's not too far now. Where'd the report say she stayed, mostly, again?"

"Lakeside. Which should be right…about…"

Then, suddenly, the light Aelin was holding lurched. Kalyn watched, momentarily stunned, as the ottermaid's dark silhouette pitched forward with a startled screech and vanished from view.

"Aelin!"

Kalyn scurried over to where her sister had been walking. As she neared the point of the otter's disappearance, she slowed down and began to nudge the ground in front of her with her footpaw before each step.

Five steps on, and she touched nothing but air.

Kneeling by the ledge, Kalyn peered down through the dark. She couldn't see anything.

"Aelin! You okay?"

"Yeah, 'm fine."

Kalyn relaxed a bit at the sound of her sister's voice.

"How far down are you?"

"Dunno. I can see you. Definitely not too far. Maybe ten feet, and the ground's soft down here – you could jump. Just keep a grip on that wand. I lost mine."

"Well, dangit. That's not good."

Kalyn sat down and dangled her paws over the edge, preparing to jump and trusting Aelin to get out of the way first.

"I know. We might even have to set off a charge here later on – last thing that needs to happen is some dibbun getting ahold of it."

The squirrel launched herself off the ledge and, after a short drop, found herself squelched ankle-deep in mud.

"YUCK! Oh, ick ick ick ick ick!"

Her face screwed up almost comically in disgust, Kalyn began to wrench her paws free from the sludge. An otter's paw appeared in front of her, and she grabbed hold of it immediately, still struggling toward better footing.

"You said the ground was _soft_, not a bloody _swamp_!" she complained loudly. "Sheesh!"

"Heh, sorry. If it helps, I'm muddy, too."

Kalyn froze, her grip on the other's paw tightening suddenly. Aelin's voice…had come from behind her.

Lifting her wand slightly, the squirrel took a good look at the paw in hers, and then at the otter it was a part of.

Black fur – not just brown darkened by rain and night and mud, but _black_ – with inexplicable glints of gold and silver about the tips. A long arm, slender, but with apparent muscles that Aelin lacked. At the shoulder, the thin strap of a dark red piece of clothing which might have been a dress of some sort.

The squirrel heard a sudden intake of air somewhere behind her. She raised the wand just a bit further, casting the face in light.

The head had the basic shape of an otter's, but thinner, more pointed, more delicate. The creature's eyes glinted in the wandlight, almost glowing red. Thick headfur, which _should _have looked absolutely ridiculous but somehow _didn't_, fell in gold-and-silver-streaked waves about the thing's face.

Kalyn's eyes, which had been flicking wildly about, taking in all of the otter's features, suddenly froze upon its mouth, which was stretched into a wide smile.

A pair of pointed fangs sparkled white at the forefront of the otter-thing's grin.

"KALYN!"

The black otter's grip on her paw tightened, and all at once she had been wrenched out of the muck, dangling by one arm in the air, her face inches from the Sue's.

"Why hello, there."

* * *

It didn't know how long it had been, how much time had passed, how much was left. It didn't know, and it didn't need to know.

It needed only to hurry.

As the stadium audience watched the recorded capture of a Sue, a metal _thing_ far below was boring through concrete, its senses fixed on something entirely different.

The material resonated around it, vibrating as the golden pod spun and pushed onward. The vibrations were changing; not much further. Not much longer.

Mere moments later, the last thin barrier of concrete crumbled away in a cloud of grey dust, and the golden pod fell to the floor. It bounced, tumbled, rolled, and then abruptly sprouted six pointed legs and a pair of antennae. Standing up, it turned about slowly, casting its glowing green 'eyes' about, searching for something.

A huddled figure in one corner of the small grey room caught its attention. It paused, waiting for some sign.

The figure stirred slightly and groaned.

The golden insect scurried forward immediately, its little claws ticking against the concrete loudly. Despite this, it had nearly reached the figure before it was noticed.

Noctis raised his head and looked at the golden thing with tired, uncomprehending eyes. He blinked once, and recognition flooded his face. The fox didn't bother trying to hold back his grin.

"So you came…'s about time!"

* * *

Kalyn froze in the Sue's grip, her shoulder throbbing and her feet dangling uselessly, inches above the mud. Aelin, somewhere behind her, was gripping the hilt of her right-hand sword as though debating whether or not she could, or should, risk drawing it.

The squirrel's mind fell to the wand still clenched in her paw, and her fingers tightened on it slightly. Perhaps, if she was quick enough, if she was lucky…

Then the Sue did something highly unexpected.

She set Kalyn down.

The squirrel's knees buckled slightly and she swayed, regaining her balance and footing on the soggy ground as she blinked through the rain in utter incomprehension.

"You looked like you needed a hand," the Sue said, almost _cheerfully_. "So I thought I'd give you one…it's the least I could do. After all, it's my fault."

The Sue bowed her head in sudden sorrow, a peal of thunder split the air, and neither Kalyn nor Aelin knew exactly what to do next.

"Er…fault?" Kalyn said weakly. All at once, she remembered why they were there, and her free paw strayed to the small pouch at her side.

"Oh, yes," the Sue replied. "Everything's my fault. The rain, the darkness – the world responds to my sorrow and pain!"

"Dear gods, what is up with her?" Aelin hissed over Kalyn's shoulder. The squirrel shook her head and shrugged slightly. It was a Guilty!Sue. Who knew how their minds really worked?

The Sue was still going strong.

"…all because of what I am! Oh, the misery! Oh, the pain! I long for companionship, and yet can let no one near me –"

"No beast."

"I…huh?"

"It's 'no _beast_,'" Kalyn repeated herself. "Mossflower. Animals. No-_beast_."

The Sue stared blankly at her for a brief moment before throwing herself into a new round of self-pity.

"_They_ are not beasts! They at least are persons – compared to me, not even the most evil of warlords could be called a beast! _I _am the only one here who is so low, so terrible, that she may be called a…a…a _beast_!"

Abruptly, the Sue burst into tears. Aelin and Kalyn watched awkwardly.

"I almost wish she'd just up and attack us already," Aelin muttered, her right paw clenching around the corresponding hilt. Kalyn hummed agreement, finally digging something silvery out of the pouch at her hip.

"Let's get this over with," she said. "You don't suppose this one could be reasonable?"

"Maybe…" Aelin replied, considering the sobbing Sue in front of them. Lightning split the sky again, and thunder rolled between thick clouds. With a quick nod, Aelin came to a decision and stepped forward, drawing level with her sister.

"Hey."

The Sue continued to cry.

"Hey, you…uhm…otter-beast!"

The Sue's tears vanished abruptly, her overblown sorrow transforming into towering rage faster than a hare could bolt down a jar of cookies.

"DO NOT," she bellowed, her red eyes glowing suddenly in the night air, "CALL ME A BEAST!"

Aelin stumbled back in surprise. Kalyn, however, raised both paws and began to speak loudly, making calming gestures.

"All right, all right! Calm down!"

"I am calm," the Sue replied crossly, folding her arms under her freakishly large chest and glaring despite her words. Two curved fangs jutted out, curving over her lower lip threateningly. Kalyn, however, refused to be intimidated.

"Right, sorry about that, you just called yourself one and we, ah, don't know your name–"

"It's Rayvin. Rayvin Darknesse Shadonite."

Both Sue Slayers shuddered visibly. They could _hear_ the spellings being mangled in the Sue's voice, and it was like knives in their sides.

"Okay, Raven," Aelin said quickly, "So you said that…um…everything's your fault, right?"

"Oh, yes," the Sue replied, tears filling her still-angry eyes. She sniffed (elegantly, it must be understood) and continued with some heat in her voice, "but I don't want to talk about it!"

A quick, powerful wave of sparkly-poo washed out from the creature's body, attempting to plant a suggestion in the other two to ask anyhow. She wanted to tell them all about her tragic past, in spite of her words.

Aelin and Kalyn, however, had been sprayed thoroughly with anti-sparkly before the retrieval mission and had eaten some garlic bread besides, so they retained their sanity.

"Okay," Kalyn replied blandly, "but if you decide to change your mind, we should probably go somewhere _dry_ first."

"Anyhow, whatever happened, you must feel pretty bad about it, right?"

The Sue's big, teary doe eyes returned, masking the brief confusion she must have felt when her Sue-power failed.

"Terrible," she agreed in a high moan, "you cannot imagine the horror I have felt, the pain I have gone through! Oh, the agony!"

"We have a way you can fix that," Kalyn offered quickly, cutting the Sue off before she could get too far into another round of self-pity.

"A sort of redemption method," Aelin agreed.

"Trial by fire, you know."

"Would you be interested?"

Rayvin wavered, glancing at the otter and squirrel with an odd mixture of surprise, hope, and mild, uneasy doubt.

"My sins," she began weakly, "are far too great for any little…ceremony…to cleanse."

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure of that," Kalyn said.

"You never know until you try anyhow."

"So how 'bout it?"

Now, had any normal being with a normal brain been in this position – on a dark night, in the pouring rain, having stumbled suddenly upon two armed strangers who suddenly began to offer a shady deal that could fix one's mistakes, or at least redeem them – that being probably would have refused outright. At the very least, they would have demanded more information, a bit more clarity concerning what they would have to do or give in return. Even one in severe emotional turmoil might have had the presence of logic to ask a few probing questions or request a day to sleep on it and decide.

True logic, however, has never been the strongest point of a Mary Sue.

"I shall do it!"

Kalyn pressed a silver, star-shaped pendant on a thin chain into the Sue's palm and grinned.

"Good luck. You'll need it," she said, "Activating code phrase: _katai shugorei_!"

A flash of light burst from the silver pendant. When it cleared, there was nothing left to suggest the presence of the three beings except for muddy footprints that were being steadily filled and erased by the rain.

* * *

The projector shut itself off and vanished beneath the sandy arena floor. The audience knew exactly what was coming next.

"Kill the Sue! Kill the Sue! _Kill the Sue! KILL THE SUE!_"

"We're getting there, we're getting…QUIET!"

Slowly, the crowd in the stands calmed down. Aelin took the microphone gingerly from Kalyn's paws, rubbing her ear and wincing.

"Thank you," said the otter. "Now, let's get this over with, shall we? First of all, our all-too-willing antagonist, the Mary Sue!"

The gates grated open, and Rayvin stepped out of the shadows into the sunlight, where she immediately began to sparkle and glow with gold light. The crowd, protected by a thorough spraying of anti-sparklypoo from the waves of Sue power the black otter seemed to unconsciously emit, roared impressively.

"Rayvin Darknesse Shadownite – sorry, saying it hurts me just as much as it hurt you – female otter vampiress –"

"Do not speak of that!" the Sue suddenly wailed from the sands below, burying her face into her paws melodramatically.

"— and general Guilty!Sue. Now, on the _other_ side of the arena, we give you…"

The opposing gates rumbled wide, and a red-furred squirrel marched out with her head held high.

"Our Sue-slayer, Milfoil Treeflyer!"

This time the crowd was far more positive in their response.

"You know the rules, guys. No outside help allowed. Other than that…"

Kalyn snatched the microphone away and took a deep breath. Aelin ducked aside, pressing her paws to her ears.

"Let's FIGHT!"

* * *

Immediately upon hearing the bell, Rayvin closed her eyes, stretched her arms out before her, and opened her mouth…probably to say something dramatic. Milfoil, however, was having none of that nonsense. As quick as a flash, the little red squirrel drew two simple throwing knives from her belt and sent them streaking through the air at the Mary-Sue.

Rayvin barely managed to open her scarlet eyes and dodge in time.

"Of course," the Sue muttered softly in one of her saddest voices. "Nothing potent enough to cleanse my sins could be easy."

Then, in a sudden flash of brilliant red light, two long swords appeared in the Sue's paws – one black, one white, and each exactly mirroring the other in shape with a sculpted angel's wing forming a half-loop around the hilt. The Sue allowed everyone a moment to marvel at their beauty (and to be perfectly fair, they were rather pretty, though in a very over-the-top, far-too-intricate-for-a-weapon, cliché manner) before swinging them into something almost like the hand positions of a shaolin crane stance: the right one held before her forehead, pointing left, and the left blade held lower across her body, pointing right.

"Aw, heck," Milfoil muttered, drawing her dirk which, though a good weapon itself, now looked incomparably small and plain.

"Make it a good fight," the Sue urged, her eyes filling with tears that seemed to do nothing to impair her vision. "I must be cleansed of this curse."

Without any further warning, the Sue charged. Milfoil instantly had to call upon the natural agility of her squirrel body to avoid or parry the otter's rapid swings and jabs.

"If you…want this…_cleansing_," Milfoil bit out between sidesteps and blocks, "why not…just…hold _still_ for a minute?"

Finally, an opening appeared. Milfoil dove forward and slashed hard across the Sue's chest, but at the last moment the creature jumped back out of the short blade's range.

"That is not how those who brought me here said it worked, though," the Sue countered. Milfoil shot a mental glare at Aelin and Kalyn. They just had to make things difficult, didn't they?

"I must fight you until I feel my curse leave. That is the answer. There was nothing about simply giving up and losing to you."

Yep. They _had_ to.

"Well, then, we might be here a while," Milfoil muttered, casting her eyes quickly over the Sue's form, looking for a weak spot. Unfortunately, the Sue's stance was unusually well-kept, loose and fluid, and with two blades instead of one, she could easily block and counterattack unless Milfoil attacked very, _very_ quickly.

Well, it was better than nothing.

The squirrel took a deep breath, fingering something on her belt with her left paw. With a sudden exhale, her paw whipped forward, sending another throwing knife whizzing through the air. Rayvin deflected it easily with the black sword, and then Milfoil was there.

Sand flew into the air as the fighters skidded and leapt, dancing about each other. Milfoil lashed out constantly in a rapid barrage of blows, throwing a knife whenever Rayvin put any sort of distance between them. The Sue was trapped in defense, though it seemed impenetrable at first. Then, so fast that the cheering crowd barely saw it happen, without any build-up or prelude at all, Milfoil's garlic-coated knife flashed past her enemy's guard and dug into the Sue's side, slashing through the light fabric of the creature's red dress and thick black fur and skin and muscle.

Rayvin gasped, staggering back and swinging wildly at the same instant, forcing Milfoil to jump back in sudden retreat to avoid the twin blades. Spitting, acrid black smoke rose from her wound, and the Sue fell to one knee, panting.

The crowd roared.

* * *

Noctis remained slumped against the wall, bedraggled, exhausted, but with a new spark of life in his eyes as the golden pod-bug shuddered, crouched, and then suddenly opened up like a metallic flower. From its center sprung a fine, dark line which rose vertically three feet into the air. The line quivered and then split in two, tearing an oblong hole open in space itself. Noctis grinned sharply through the hole.

"You got it?" he asked, a little breathless perhaps, but with great joy.

Whoever or whatever was on the other side of the hole did not answer except to reach through with a small hypodermic needle in a human hand. Noctis took the syringe and held it up to the light. Sparkling pink liquid glowed inside the clear plastic.

"It'll be enough? I've kinda been under this stuff of theirs – anti-sparkly, they call it – for longer than I thought I'd be."

"It will be enough," the voice responded. It was a female, and the voice itself echoed gorgeously, if an echo could be gorgeous. "Take your time, though. We have a lock on this pocket world as long as the Searcher is active here, but it will take a few more minutes to set up a temporary transport point."

"What, can't any of you do it in a few seconds at most? I swear I remember you being faster than that."

"You _have_ been there too long, Noctis! Listen to yourself, using logic of all things! If we set up the transfer in a few seconds and right where you are, you can't make a proper exit, now can you?"

"Aaah, that's right. I take it there are some problems setting up the point, then?"

"Correct. Also, it will come into place midair above the arena, and we can only make it last for a minute at most. Technical issues, you understand."

"Absolutely. How much damage can I do?"

"All you want to the grounds, but do try not to kill or…permanently disable…any of the fighters."

"Capture?"

"Not now. The plans have changed a bit, you see. New information is coming to light – information which makes capture a bit too risky. Just escape with yourself."

"Will do, ma'am."

Noctis saluted and moved the needle into place against the inside of his left elbow.

"Noctis. Make us proud."

The fox nodded solemnly, and the tear in space zipped closed, vanishing back into the golden flower-bug.

Instants later, an empty syringe fell to the concrete floor, and a fully revived Noctis stood up with a grin.

"Payback time."

* * *

Milfoil shifted her grip on the dirk, preparing for the finishing blow. She tensed, then shot forward, scattering sand through the air, her blade aiming for the Sue's throat.

Then Rayvin looked up, her face pained, and faster than should have been possible, her white sword rose.

The point of the dirk met the flat of the Sue's blade, sending a ripple of pain and shock up Milfoil's arm. Her wrist buckled, and the dirk turned so that its edge pressed against the white sword rather than its tip.

"I'm…not done!" the Sue gasped dramatically. "I have not been freed! I still thirst…for blood!"

"Dangit," Milfoil said, glaring at the Mary-Sue, "so you really are a vampire, then? I was hoping they were pulling our tails. This is just wrong. Well, at least the garlic should be working double-well this way."

"Garlic does not affect me."

Rayvin thrust forward with her blade, knocking Milfoil back. The squirrel, however, quickly regained her footing even in the loose sand, and she was unperturbed as she answered.

"That smoke coming out your side says otherwise."

"I do not…understand that," Rayvin admitted, standing awkwardly. "I am a special sort of vampire. Silver does not affect me, nor does the sun except to make my form sparkle, and garlic isn't supposed to do anything either. All of that, plus I still have a heart, though it was turned black by the curse."

"…Can I kill you now?"

"Perhaps," the Sue continued, really getting warmed up into her story now, "it is because I was not turned as most vampires are, but rather I was born this way, a deformed, evil infant cursed with dark powers while still in her mother's womb!"

"Oh, good grief."

"I have lived so long – I do not look it, but I am _one billion_ years old!"

"Now that's going too far!"

"At first I slew other creatures and drank their blood with abandon! Then, one day about one million, three hundred twenty-six thousand—"

"I'm seriously getting sick of you. This is a warning."

"—and seven years ago, I met the most wonderful, handsome, kind, charming—"

Milfoil was openly gagging now.

"—perfect male otter the world has ever seen. His white fur was such perfect contrast to my own, and I knew from the start we were destined to be together, and from then on I swore never to kill another creature, but then one day—"

"THAT DOES IT!"

The red squirrel attacked with an even greater vengeance and fury than she had previously, moving so quickly it was as though she had three blades instead of just one. Infuriatingly, the Sue raised her blades and blocked each attack smoothly, still telling her story even above Milfoil's angry screams.

"—died tragically and I broke my oath, and then I lived the next million years in solitude, eating nothing but fish blood since I had decided to go vegetarian for certain this time, and now I will be finished with the curse forever while retaining my eternal life and lovely appearance!"

"I HATE SUES!"

"And I think it's working! I'm still young and pretty, but your garlic affected me! And it hurts, too! I'm so happy – I haven't been happy in a million years, and I still shouldn't be, but I am!"

Milfoil was quickly reduced to a wordless scream of frustration as her dirk glanced off of Rayvin's swords over and over, vibrating in her paw and filling her ears with its ringing noise. Not one blow fell through the Sue's guard; in fact, she almost seemed to be getting faster. The tears were gone from her eyes; instead, the guilty!Sue was uncharacteristically beaming as she fought.

"You know what, I think I'll go all-out now," she said happily, blocking a strike toward her head. "You seem aggressive enough to take it, and it might make the curse go away faster. Besides, even if I do end up killing you, I'll just have to be sad again and do my penance that way."

Milfoil barely had time to blink before the Sue suddenly swept both her swords up with speed she had not exhibited before. Red sparkles trailed after the sword tips. Both blades managed to catch Milfoil's dirk (it had to have been intentional on the Sue's part) and the squirrel was thrown backwards by the force of it. She landed hard on her back, plowing a furrow in the loose sand and just about ruining her favorite blue tunic with small rips in the fabric.

"Ow…"

Milfoil put a paw to her head and sat up carefully. Whatever that was, it had hurt. In addition, she had managed to lose her grip on the dirk sometime between Rayvin's attack and Milfoil's eventual landing. Still moving with some care, though the throbbing in her head was subsiding, the squirrel looked around for her weapon.

There it was, just a few feet away, stuck point-down in the sand.

And then she noticed what stood just beyond it.

Rayvin appeared mostly the same as she had before, excepting that she had somehow or another locked or fused her twin blades into a single longsword, half black and half white, with the intricate angel wings forming a complete circle around the hilt, and excepting what had suddenly sprouted from her back.

Stretched out to either side of the Sue, blacker than the night sky between stars, was a mismatched set of wings. On her right, a fluffy, feathery bird wing. On her left, a leathery sort that one might expect on a bat…or a dragon…or a devil.

Milfoil stared for a long moment in shock, and then abruptly dropped her face into one palm.

"My God," she nearly wailed, "_how cliché can this get?_"

* * *

In a small, well-lit room underneath the stands, shielded by layers of soundproofing, Arawolf worked furiously at her transcript of the Stu's ramblings. Headphones were slapped over her skull, resting just before her pricked-up, attentive ears, and she stopped writing periodically to hit the _rewind_, _play, _and _pause_ buttons on the recorder in front of her. An intense grin was stretched across her muzzle, but her eyes remained fixed steadily on the paper in front of her as she scribbled away.

The door opened, and one of her ears flicked briefly toward it. Arawolf didn't bother looking up, however.

"Just set it right here," she said, reaching out and tapping the tabletop to her left. She then immediately pressed the pause button and bent further over her work. "Thanks, pal."

Before Arawolf knew what was happening, something blunt and hard had impacted the back of her skull, causing a flash of white light to explode across her eyes. The headphones were ripped away and she was suddenly out of her seat and slammed against the wall, choking and clawing at a grey-furred paw wrapped around her throat.

Noctis allowed himself a single moment's pleasure in observing the confused, sudden fear in the pine marten's eyes before he brought his free paw about and (lightly) cuffed her across the temple. She immediately went limp. He dropped her unconscious body to the floor and regarded it casually.

On one hand, orders were orders. None of them were to be harmed permanently. On the other, this demon was a definite threat, in some ways even more so than any of the others. They said that she once tore a Mary-Sue to bloody pieces with her bare paws and then sat and meditated amidst the carnage as though it was a Zen garden…none of the other Slayers could match her for her sheer violence.

His tail, now reformed to its former bushy glory, twitched behind him almost of its own will. Noctis' eyes narrowed.

That, and it was rather personal now.

He ran his tongue contemplatively across the back of his teeth, then bent down and removed the scimitar from the martin's belt. Unsheathing it in a fluid motion, the fox-Stu rested it against the side of her neck.

One wouldn't matter that much.

A loud crash startled him, and he lifted the scimitar from its dangerous position for a moment.

"—THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?!"

Noctis had only half turned when the skinny ferret impacted him, actually knocking him backwards a couple of steps. Then the strong!Stu just stood there, staring downward with an almost bemused expression as Kelaiah clung to him, kicking anything he could reach and yelling for help. Then the expression of bemusement turned serious as his sensitive hearing picked up the distant sounds of doors slamming open and frantic voices approaching.

Noctis generally liked to believe himself invincible, but even he realized that it would be a really bad idea to face off against almost the entire Redwall Sue-Slayer team alone…especially when he had a transport to catch. The fox dropped the scimitar, seized the kicking and screaming ferret by the back of his collar, and threw him to the side. Kelaiah landed on the table, slid across its surface, and toppled to the floor on the other side. In moments, he was standing again, all of the fur down his spine and across his shoulders on end.

By that time, Noctis had leapt over the shattered remains of the ceramic mug in the doorway and the puddle of hot liquid that had spread around them and vanished down the corridor.

The Sue-Slayers drew even with the doorway and, joined by Kelaiah, they quickly gave chase.

* * *

It happened so quickly that nobody really agreed who had moved first. Milfoil dove for her knife, and Rayvin, mismatched wings flaring wide, dove for Milfoil. There was a sudden, confused scuffle of motion near the center of the arena, and then the two were opposite each other once again, Milfoil clutching her dirk in one paw and a bleeding shoulder in the other, Rayvin's feathered wing spitting black smoke near the base and her entire form sparkling golden in the clear sunlight.

"Ah," the Sue sighed, stretching her wing out with a wince, "how perfect! Do come at me again. I think my curse _is_ lifting…you will be the first person I can kill without guilt!"

"That's just twisted and wrong," Milfoil replied, slowly removing her paw and rotating her shoulder to make sure it could still move. It hurt like the blazes, but other than that nothing seemed to be impaired.

"No it isn't. For once I won't be killing because I'm terribly hungry, but because I feel like it. I won't be drinking your blood and forcing your life to fuel my own. So, really, what's wrong with it?"

"Everything!"

"I'm a billion years old," the Sue sniffed, a touch haughtily. "I do think I know things a little better than you do. Everyone dies eventually…well, except me. The point is, I'd think you'd be a little more accepting of it."

Milfoil just shook her head, not entirely sure how to answer. Everything about Rayvin's argument was backwards, wrong, incomplete, but she couldn't express just how. Not here, not now. Plus, the Sue wouldn't accept any rebuttal; she would cling to her ideas, no matter how twisted, until the end. And while it is generally frowned upon to hurt someone just because of a disagreement, this particular _disagreement_ was a…rather dangerous one.

Milfoil brushed a paw across her belt, checking her throwing knives. One-two-three…four.

Four left. All the others were scattered about the sandy arena, useless unless Milfoil should stumble across one and have time to pick it up.

Four throwing knives. A dirk. The natural agility of a squirrel's body.

A longsword. Two massive wings. The unnatural speed and strength of a vampiric otter.

Milfoil breathed in and out slowly. Her speed was her advantage – even the Sue had failed when pressed with it. Unfortunately, that sort of speed was hard to keep up for the long periods of time that had proven necessary to break through Rayvin's guard, and Milfoil was already tired and sore.

She considered throwing a knife as a distraction before rushing in, but immediately discounted the idea. She would need all of them if the Sue took to the air. For a moment, Milfoil cursed herself for having tossed so many already; she really could have used them _now_.

"If you won't attack, then I will!"

Suddenly, Milfoil found herself fighting to block a longsword with a tiny dirk.

_She's so aggressive…even for a guilty!Sue_.

Some guilty!Sues were just like that, Milfoil knew. It was what really tied them to the vengeful subtype – the tendency to lash out from time to time, to press forward in a fight in almost blind rage. The difference was in their reactions in the aftermath. A vengeful!Sue would be perfectly justified. A guilty!Sue would weep and flounder about and angst about her actions.

And that was their weakness, Milfoil realized dimly as she jumped up to avoid a low sweep. While in midair, she lashed out, kicking toward the Sue's face, but her footpaw was blocked (painfully) by a leathery wing.

Too bad that weakness would only appear after the battle was over. Only once Milfoil was…beaten…would the Sue break down and remember all the fights past and all the blood and the guilt and the…

_Hey, wait a second_…

It was a low blow. But, Milfoil thought as she ducked another swipe that might have taken off her head, things were getting rather desperate, and very few battles were anything like sporting.

Rayvin had overextended slightly in her last swing, and Milfoil's act of dodging rather than blocking had left her dirk free. The squirrel darted forward, stabbing toward the otter's gut. She was blocked, as she expected, but she used that to her advantage, spinning with the momentum the parry had given her to slash from another direction. The Sue blocked again, and this time Milfoil reached out with her free paw and grabbed Rayvin by the wrist, forcing her to stay still and meet her eyes.

Glaring easily, Milfoil opened her mouth.

"How did it feel, watching them as they died?"

Surprise rose in the red irises. Milfoil squeezed the wrist in her grasp tighter, digging her claws in slightly.

"Did you ever look them in the eyes, or were you too afraid? Did you ever see them fade away?"

Milfoil was making things up on the fly, drawing from things she had read and heard and watched in stories of fantasy and battle. It seemed to be working, though; guilt was creeping back into the otter's countenance. Her bubbly confidence was draining away. Her wrist was trembling under Milfoil's paw.

"How many did you kill? Did you feel sorry for any of them? Did you think of their friends…families…anything at all? How many would miss them when they were gone, just so you would live? You should be ashamed of yourself."

"I…I am," Rayvin replied, her lower lip sticking out and shaking. Abruptly, silvery tears spilled down her furry cheeks, and she started to wail. "I am, oh, I've lived with this guilt for a million years! I want to be free of it! Let me be free!"

Before Milfoil could say another word or make another move, Rayvin wrenched her arms free of the squirrel's grasp and raised her sword high in preparation for a downwards swing, a wild light in her eyes and her wings spread out wide.

The Sue Slayer reacted before she was aware of reacting.

In mere moments, there was a long cut up the Sue's torso, a slash across her throat, and a dirk buried to the hilt in her eye. The wounds spat out black smoke, hissing like oil in a hot pan. The Sue made a strange sound, like a whimper cut off before it could be born, and then crumpled silently to the ground, the black smoke still rising into the sky.

Rayvin Darknesse Shadownite didn't move again.

Milfoil sighed, running a hand over her face, and bent to retrieve her dagger, closing her eyes to avoid the sight of the garlic eating away at the edges of the body's wounds.

Then, with a sudden rumbling and a loud blast and a flare of light, the Sue-gate burst open – more specifically, it burst _apart_ – and through the sudden wreckage and confusion ran a familiar grey-furred Stu, laughing maniacally.

The entire stadium dissolved into chaos.

Spectators alternately fled toward the exits, screaming that the Sues were loose, or crowded about the force-field barrier between themselves and the arena, thinking that things had just gotten interesting. Most of the Sue-Slaying team was tripping over one another, following the Stu and shouting something incoherent. Security was scrambling desperately, having relaxed somewhat during the fight itself. Milfoil stared blankly, not really sure what she should do, while Aelin and Kalyn either stared in horror at the escaped (and seemingly revived) convict or leapt out of the box to the sandy arena's floor.

Noctis reached the exact center of the arena, pausing there for just a moment. Milfoil and Aelin each regained their senses and charged in, following Kalyn and hoping to catch the Stu between themselves and the other group, which comprised of Kelaiah, Rector, Nonny, and Kenzie. Security hares were finally pouring from the hidden doors about the arena's walls, whooping battle cries at the prospect of, as a particularly large colonel roared out over the general cacophony, "a decent drubbin'."

Noctis grinned, crouched, and suddenly kicked upward.

The ranged fighters took aim, slings whirring, bowstrings creaking, arms bent back to hurl a knife or a spear. Kelaiah, glasses askew and tunic rumpled, raised his laser and selected "Burnt to a Crisp."

Then a sudden burst of hot light burst into the sky, and everybeast who had looked up to follow the fox's flight – which is to say, everybeast in the whole dang stadium – was momentarily blinded. Stones, spears, knives, and arrows flew in every direction except for the one they were originally aimed; more than one beast wound up wounded by friendly fire falling from the sky, though thankfully, nobody died.

When everybeast had finally blinked the spots from his or her eyes, Noctis was standing on the edge of what appeared to be a metallic orange, perfectly rectangular portal in midair. He grinned and waved.

"Thank you for your hospitality," he boomed out with heroic gusto, "but I'm afraid I must be leaving now. Here's hoping we meet again under more…_favorable_ circumstances. Sayonara!"

With that, the fox hurled himself backwards and the portal vanished, leaving nothing behind but clear sky. For a long time, the Sue Slayer team stared up at it. Then, at last, Kalyn spoke up.

"He used the wrong word," she groused unexpectedly, "You only say 'Sayonara' if you don't think you'll ever see the other person again. I'm pretty sure it should've been 'Sainara.'"

The grey squirrel dropped her eyes to find everyone in the immediate vicinity giving her blank looks.

"_What_?"

"Is this really the time?" Aelin asked dryly. "We've got bigger problems than the misuse of a foreign language."

Nonny looked around as though suddenly realizing something.

"Where's Arawolf? I'm surprised she missed something—"

Kelaiah's eyes widened.

"Ah, snap!"

In an instant, the ferret was gone, calling for a medic.

"—like…this…" Nonny finished, staring in slight confusion.

Aelin grabbed a passing hare and told him to pass on a message to his commander to make sure the stadium was cleared quickly. The Slayers wouldn't be hanging around to see the spectators off, either, because of the emergency. The young hare nodded smartly and took off.

"What a mess," Kenzie lamented as the Slayers trooped down into the cool concrete corridors of the base underneath the arena. "What. A. Mess."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading so far, everyone. I know it's taken me a monstrously long time to write this chapter. The truth is that while I'm still interested in Sue Slaying fics, that interest has cooled somewhat. As such, I'm not sure if I can write any more for this. I really only got through this chapter because it was already half-written when I lost interest, and I didn't particularly like leaving it half done that way.

If the bug bites me again and I find myself with an urge to continue this, believe me, I will. However, I can make no promises.

Again, thanks everyone!


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